


Homecoming

by flightinflame



Series: The Genoshan Prince [6]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cain Marko is the worst, Disabled Character, Eventual Happy Ending, Genosha, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Leadership, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Mind Manipulation, POV Alternating, Protective Erik Lehnsherr, Temporary Character Death, Trans Hank McCoy, Trans Jason Stryker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:18:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 55,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22290148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightinflame/pseuds/flightinflame
Summary: Charles and the other Westchesterian mutants have found peace within Genosha, but that peace doesn't last. The newly married couple are each faced with their own battles, as Erik leads Genosha's warriors to fight against En Sabah Nur's forces, and Charles finds himself struggling with a more familiar threat.
Relationships: Azazel (X-Men)/Janos Quested, Emma Frost & Erik Lehnsherr, Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, Hank McCoy/Raven | Mystique, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Raven | Mystique & Charles Xavier
Series: The Genoshan Prince [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1446409
Comments: 210
Kudos: 97





	1. Unity

**Author's Note:**

> So glad to be writing in this universe again. I've done everything I can to make this comprehensible without reading the rest!  
> Thank you to Lourdesdeath for the betaread, and Steph, Lynds, TnC and Lavender for the encouragement. This will update every Friday

Charles tried to smile, to reassure the two who had escaped from En Sabah Nur. He remembered so easily how afraid he had been when he had first arrived in Genosha. The escapees had clearly been through more than he had ever suffered under Marko's rule, judging by the burned and shattered wing of the boy currently collapsed in his wheeled chair. The two of them were safe now, but they hadn't known safety for a long time, that was clear in their eyes. He wanted to try and comfort them both.

The woman, Psylocke, stepped forwards, bowing, Erik's cape flowing out around her. She held her hand out towards Charles, and he took it, letting her bring his knuckles to her lips. She nodded to Erik, who returned the gesture, his back straight. Underneath the surface, Charles could feel Erik's concern, his anger at the thought of other mutants being hurt, being manipulated and forced to fight for another.

"You are both safe here," Charles promised her, soothing his husband with a thought _You brought them back, Erik. They can start to recover now that they are here._ He knew that Erik thought all mutants should be safe within Genosha, that offering them protection was his life's work. Seeing the state of these two would lead to Erik heading off to fight. Charles understood that. But for now, they were together, both kings, equal rulers. "Let's get you some food, while Hank cares for your wounds." He walked forwards, supporting his weight on the chair that Hank had constructed, as Erik smoothed the movement of it with his power. Charles found himself longing for the crutches Hank had planned to construct, but that could wait.

The sheer wonder on the faces of Erzengel and Psylocke as they made their way through the camp helped Charles to relax. After everything that they had been through, they were now somewhere that they could heal. 

The news of the search party's return rippled through the camp, children peering out from tent flaps and cabin doorways as the party passed by.

Erik stopped the chair outside of Hank's cabin, marching to the door and knocking to it. Charles was aware of others emerging from surrounding tents, staring at them, but he sent out a wave of reassurance to those closest. _We'll be fine. They just need some privacy. We will celebrate once they are healed._

Erik nodded as the door opened, and Hank stepped outside, Raven emerging with him. They both looked at the newcomers, Raven flicking to her more human form.  
"Do you speak Genoshan?" Hank asked the two of them, trying to acknowledge them. Charles could see that it wasn't simply a case of finding out the answer - it was letting the two of them know that he wanted them to speak, that he cared. 

Psylocke nodded.  
"We do," she answered, her accent soft and strange, tinged with something that felt vaguely familiar.

"That's good. I'm… a doctor. A healer. You both look to be in a bad way. I want to treat you."

Psylocke glanced towards Erik, and Charles could sense her fear, her confusion. She'd agreed to go because they'd both known Erzengel wouldn't survive for long without help. She wasn't sure if there was going to be help available, but she was willing to try and see what they could get, if they would be helped. They'd had no chance before.

"You can trust him," Charles promised, and Hank stepped forwards, guiding Erzengel up into his arms and carefully maneuvering him into the cabin, as Raven helped Psylocke.

"I need to speak with them," Erik spoke clearly, and Hank looked at him and nodded.

"I'm sure you spoke to them on the journey. They need help, now, before they can answer your questions in greater depth," Hank said. "If you could arrange for food to be brought here. They'll need time to recover."

"We don't have time," Erik said, looking at Hank, but Hank stared back.

"We have time enough. En Sabah Nur does not yet know that they have been captured. His forces might be searching, but... I need time to examine them, and they need time to recover enough to face your questions." Hank shifted his weight, looking down, and Charles realised that he was nervous. But Erik nodded.

"Tell me when they are ready to talk," he ordered, and then smiled at Charles. "I see the kingdom did not burn in my absence?"

"We're doing better than we were before," Charles answered with a teasing smile. "I have some promising trade links underway with our neighbours, do try not to destroy them."

"I shall do what I am able," Erik offered, echoing Charles's smile. "It is the least that I can do, after you have done so well."

"See to your troops," Charles instructed him. "We can talk more this evening," _when we are alone._ It wasn't that Charles doubted the loyalty of his men, more that he wanted to ensure that they were in private before they spoke of their next steps.

Erik leaned in and kissed him, and then walked away.

***

"So what is it you learned?" Charles asked, lounging on their soft bed within the tent that they shared. "Other than bringing home two more strays."

"Well, my last stray did turn out to be rather a success," Erik answered, divesting himself of his armour and his shirt, leaving on only his trousers and his ever-present vambraces. Their patterns were muted today, the metal swirling slowly across the surface. He moved to the bed, sitting down with his legs crossed in front of him.

Charles smiled, picking up the jar of oil he kept close to the bed, both for Erik to use when his back was aching, and for other activities. Now though, he took some onto his hands, working it over Erik's aching muscles. 

Erik moaned a little, closing his eyes, and Charles was honoured by the trust that his king showed him.  
"En Sabah Nur is the general for Lord Trask, but from what I can tell there is a great deal of animosity between them. Trask seeks for the eventual elimination of our kind, and En Sabah Nur seeks for our kind to serve him as tools, or weapons. They are both determined to control our people to their ends. But there are gaps, disloyalties, and many of En Sabah Nur's people follow him only from fear."

"You will go and aid them," Charles spoke softly, continuing to rub at Erik's shoulders, fingertips tracing old scars.There was no need to question it. Not when Erik was so sure. Even without his telepathy, Charles would have known that Erik could not leave this situation alone.

"I will. And you will stay, and keep our kingdom safe until my return." That certainty, that trust, meant more than Charles could easily express. After a life as the failed son, the broken heir, his back damaged so badly he would never be able to move without pain - Erik saw him as whole. As someone who could keep his people safe. He could feel that certainty, burning like a fire in the other man's mind.

"Always," Charles promised, leaning in for a kiss. "Your generals leave with you?"

Erik nodded, a noise of pleasure escaping as Charles's skilled fingers brushed against muscles tired from days searching and journeying. "My generals, and many of our warriors. Not all, I do not wish to leave you defenceless. If Psylocke wishes to accompany us, she could be useful, but Erzengel..." Erik shook his head. "He is haunted. It will be a long time before he is fit for battle."

"I will ensure that he is cared for," Charles promised, a faint smile on his lips. "As, I am sure, will Hank. Our good doctor appears determined to look after him."

"Hank has always shown great skill with those who are most hurt. That's why I commended Scott into his care," Erik answered. "Janos will stay with you, and Alex - he might be useful in a war, but I would rather have him guarding our people, and if he has a drop in confidence it might be good for him to be near those he loves. Anyway, Scott should miss him. Your sister should stay - in an emergency she may be able to provide a distraction." Erik frowned, closing his eyes, and Charles could feel the brilliant military mind at work. "I feel it would be best, as I have both our teleporters, for Peter to stay with you - the boy may not be a teleporter, but he is useful. Angel, for longer distance defence-"

"And Storm and Azazel are happy to leave their betrothed behind?"

"They managed last time. Both of them understand the importance of Genosha being left with some of our strongest warriors. Your little foundling boy, and that telepath girl-"

"Jimmy and Jean."

"Exactly." Erik smiled. "Both of them could be of use. I know they are children, and that is why I'm not taking them with me. But if you were to come under attack-"

"Do you think that likely?"

Erik's smile took on a teasing quality. "Well, there was a coup a few years ago, the old king slain-"

"And if there is to be a coup now, I will probably be leading it," Charles answered with a playful smile. "So you needn't worry for my safety, only your own."

"To threaten me in my own bed..." Erik laughed, leaning in for a kiss. "I suppose I had best distract you."

"Perhaps," Charles agreed, wrapping his arms around Erik's shoulders as Erik pulled him closer.

***

"Sleep well?" Janos asked, fingers moving quickly as Charles wheeled beside Erik to the table the next day.

Charles arched an eyebrow, until he realised that the question hadn't been addressed at him - it had been aimed towards Erik. Erik nodded, and Azazel laughed, leaning in and speaking to Charles in a stage-whisper.

"Good. He was missing you the whole journey. Gave us all a headache."

Erik rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath about insubordination and idiotic underlings. Azazel took the comments with good grace, even translating them for Janos, who laughed and applauded.

"Charles?" Erik asked softly, after they had eaten. "Would you be willing to bring breakfast to Psylocke and Erzengel, and ask your sister perhaps to accompany you to bring food to Hank?"

Charles could see the wisdom in that request - sending a senior person to speak to the escapees was a sign of respect, but whilst Charles was a co-ruler of the kingdom, he made a less intimidating figure than most. "As you wish," he agreed, brushing his lips to Erik's cheek.

Erik smiled, holding his hand for a moment before letting go so that Charles could manoeuvre his chair over to gather some food.

Charles smiled when he saw that Scott was sat beside Jean and Jimmy, the three of them deep in conversation. The thick quartz lenses that Hank had produced may have stopped the boy from having much sight, but they granted him far more freedom than he had known before, and allowed him to live without the constant need for a blindfold. Once the two plates he needed were full, he mentally called to Raven, who was at his side quickly. The two of them headed to Hank's cabin.

"Need me to distract him?" Raven laughed.

"No, just to put his mind at ease," Charles answered. "And there are some things I'd rather not know about my sister's life, Raven."

"Well then, perhaps you shouldn't pry," she said primly, as Charles stood and placed the plates on his seat, before knocking at the door.

The door swung open, Hank's face lighting up when he saw Raven, before he nodded smartly to Charles.  
"Erzengel isn't ready for an interrogation yet."

"I'm not intending to interrogate him," Charles promised, letting Raven past before picking up the food and carrying it up into Hank's cabin. "We just thought that he might need some food. That all three of you would."

"Thank you," Hank said, visibly relaxing. "I'd rather you didn't... poke around in his mind, right now. I fear it may be rather delicate."

"Of course," Charles reassured quickly. "I won't do anything other than speak to him, briefly."

Reassured, Hank led him through to the second room, where Erzengel was laying on some furs, his damaged wing now swathed in bandages and bracing. Psylocke was sat nearby, her hand resting on Erzengel's shin, brushing over the skin gently. It seemed to be soothing him a little, although the boy jumped at Charles's approach, his wings trembling.

Charles nodded to both of them, and held out the food.  
"Good morning. Erik and I wish you the best for your recovery, and remind you that this land is your home now, for however long you wish it."

Erzengel glanced at the door, looking down and mumbling. 

Psylocke cleared her throat.  
"He says that the Apocalypse… That En Sabah Nur... he will come for us."

"And we shall stop him," Charles said, certain. "We will fight to protect our own."

There was the faintest hint of a smile on her lips, and then she nodded.  
"Your Lord said he wished to bring the fight to Trask?"

"My husband," Charles corrected gently, "believes that waiting for the enemy to attack only allows them to prepare. If these men pose a threat to our kind, we must face them as soon as we are able, to overpower them before they are able to overpower us. Your knowledge will be of great help."

"Not just my knowledge." Psylocke looked at him. "I will fight him."

Charles glanced at Hank, and paused.  
"I'll let the two of you argue that one out among yourselves. But I mean what I said. The two of you are safe here, for as long as you wish to remain."

"Thank you," Psylocke answered, squeezing Erzengel's ankle softly, the gesture protective.

Charles reassured them that he would return to speak with them again soon, and then excused himself from Hank's presence, leaving Raven there as he sat in his chair.  
_They're strong,_ he told Erik. _Psylocke seems to want to fight. They seem willing to believe you offer them help, at least._

 _Well done,_ Erik sounded a little distracted. Before Charles could question it, Peter appeared in front of him, devouring an apple.

"Erik and Logan are playfighting. Azazel said you would want to see."

"Azazel is a teleporter and can get me himself," Charles muttered, but he wheeled off, Peter walking beside him. 

As they turned into a clearing set aside for training, Charles suddenly realised what Azazel had meant. Normally, Erik fought primarily with his gifts, but those were honed and not in need of practice. What was happening here was Logan and Erik, both wearing only their trousers, grappling with each other.

Azazel popped up beside Charles, a smug smile on his face.  
"You enjoy the view, yes?"

"Don't you have your own husband to be pestering?" Charles asked, not bothering to look away as Logan managed to get Erik into a hold, only for Erik to flip forwards, allowing Logan's greater weight to carry him over.

"I do. But he thought I should tell you. Everyone always think Janos is innocent because he has a pretty face. But he suggests you might enjoy."

Charles decided he couldn't answer that with dignity, so he sat silently in his chair until the two of them parted ways, embracing, and then Logan stalked off as Erik replaced his cape and wandered to Charles's chair. 

"You're a very attractive man, do you know that?"

"You're only thinking that because you can't see the best looking man in the kingdom." Erik smirked. "Anyway, that was... good, but I could do with bathing." He smirked. "Join me?"

Charles nodded, wheeling beside him towards the river.  
"You will be alright without me?" he asked.

"I'll have to be," Erik answered. "Anyway, it will not be for long. And yourself?"

"I'll try." Charles smiled. "This place is... This place is perfect. I merely need to protect it."

"And ready it for those I bring home."

Charles nodded, reaching up for Erik's arm, and then guiding him down into a kiss. Erik kissed him, before pulling away to strip and jump into the water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos appreciated! (Also let me know anything you'd like to see now that I have a ficlet collection (Genoshan Days) for this universe!)


	2. Parting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for those who have been supportive so far!

Erik lay in bed. He had always been an early riser, nightmares clawing at him if he allowed himself to sleep for too long, and that hadn't changed now that he ruled the kingdom that had once held him prisoner. He kept his eyes closed, feeling the warmth of Charles's body against his own, his husband's steady breathing soothing him. One of Charles's hands was on his shoulder, the other resting against his left vambrace, fingertips tucked beneath it. Erik reached out with his power, tracing the metal he could feel in the surrounding tents, pressing his ability as he listed off those he could sense, before pulling it back in when Charles stirred slightly, eyes clouded with sleep blinking up at him.

Erik leaned down, and pressed a kiss to his husband's lips.  
"Good morning."

Charles nodded, curling closer, and making a protesting noise when Erik tried to sit up.

"You do realise I have to go and fight?" Erik reminded him. "That today I need to lead our people to war?"

"My feet are cold," Charles muttered, twisting to press them against his leg. They were indeed cold.

Erik chuckled, but tried to press against Charles's feet to warm him.  
"I can't just stay here and keep you comfortable, my love." Erik gazed at him, trying to memorise every feature of Charles's face, the curl of his hair, the softness of his eyes. Erik was confident in his power, and that of those around him, but he still knew that when he left, there was a chance he would not return.

"I'll miss you," Charles said softly, and Erik wondered if his melancholy had bled through their connection. Charles smiled and shook his head, pressing a kiss to Erik's lips. "No, just my own. I await your return, and will do all within my power to keep our people safe."

"By the time I return you will have decided you can do far better than I, and taken over my kingdom," Erik teased.

"If I wished to do that, I would not need to wait until you left. I should merely take command now, between one heartbeat and the next..." Charles leaned up and kissed him. "I will keep them safe. Erzengel is beginning to… if not recover, then at least start on those steps. I will see if I can help him with my telepathy."

"Charles-" Erik warned. "He's been through a lot, I don't want his memories to hurt you..."

"I helped you, didn't I?" Charles asked.

"You did, and I can see what it cost you. I never wanted to subject you to that. I wanted... I wanted this place to be safe for you."

"And it is safe," Charles told him, lifting himself up and gazing down at Erik. "This place is safe, for me and my sister and the rest of my people. And it's safe for Erzengel too. Hank is helping, but I will offer my assistance. With, or without, your blessing."

Erik leaned up, his hands resting on Charles's hips, looking at the contrast between their skin, his scarred and suntanned hands against Charles's flawless pale skin.  
"If you wish it, you have my blessing," he promised. "Breakfast will be soon. You should dress."

"Breakfast can wait a little longer." Charles gazed up at him. "Be careful with Psylocke on your journey."

"You think she would betray me?"

"No." Charles shook his head, a flicker of offence marring that beautiful face. "If I thought that, I should have told you. I believe that you have her loyalty, that she would lay her life down for you for the hope you have given them. I just also believe that she is a woman who holds a lot of rage, and facing the man she holds responsible for her pain may lead to her… overreaching."

"I will be careful," Erik promised. "I will have Emma, and Azazel, and Storm, and Logan. My generals are undefeated. Charles, _I_ am undefeated. And I will return to your arms, and our kingdom, as soon as I have righted the wrong that has befallen them."

Charles nodded, leaning to kiss at Erik's neck.   
"As long as you will be careful, breakfast can wait a little longer."

Erik leaned his head back, breathless. He would miss Charles by his side, but he knew that he could not be leaving his kingdom in more skilled hands. Charles pressed close against him, their bodies fitting together as one, the way they belonged, and Erik allowed himself a few moments where the concerns of his kingdom faded away, as he focused on the warmth of Charles's body, and the taste of his kisses.

***

Despite their wishes, Erik knew that they could not lie in bed forever. Eventually, he pulled away from Charles's embrace, cleaning his husband with tender touches, and then stepping to dress in his uniform, preparing himself for war. Not for him, the trappings of gold and velvet - ornamentation merely slowed you, and enforced a separation from the very people you were ruling for. Instead he dressed practically. Ready to fight. 

It was his husband that he dressed in elegant robes as befitted the figurehead of a kingdom, knowing that Charles was born to such finery, that it fitted him in a way it had never fitted Erik. He smiled, tying Charles's belt, and then calling over Charles's chair with a wave of his hand. Charles sat down, and they made their way out of their tent and into the camp. The air was buzzing with excitement and anticipation, the way it always did before they went to war. The air itself tasted different, burrowed deep inside of him. Charles wheeled forwards, head held high, a smile on his lips. 

Erik couldn't help feeling pride when he saw Charles, honoured that the man was his husband. He'd miss him, but he was confident in his own ability and that of his warriors, and he knew that his kingdom would be safe. A few weeks or months parted from Charles would be worth it if the end result was safety for their kind.

"You're very poetic when you're hungry," Charles laughed. "You'll join us for breakfast?"

"Breakfast, and then we head off," Erik agreed, and they made their way over to a table where Emma, Logan and Rogue were eating. He nodded in greeting.   
"Rogue, will you be joining us?" he asked her, still a little surprised to see her sitting there without her gloves on, the metal of the suppressant bracelet around her wrist taunting him.

Charles's hand rested against his arm, and gave a gentle squeeze. Erik relaxed a little, reminding himself that this was for the best. The catch on the bracelet meant Rogue could free herself from it in a heartbeat if she so desired. The fact she wore it was a freedom to her. Erik's own fears about being deprived of his powers were nothing like how Rogue felt about this, and he fought to remember that.

The young woman looked up, considering, and glanced at Logan.

"You don't have to," Logan said quickly. "Erik's there, he can handle me."

The slight flicker of pain in Charles's expression showed how much that must have hurt Logan to offer. The old king and General Essex, both now dead, had subjected Logan to brutal experiments, and they left him with violent night terrors. He was a good man, when he was awake, but when he slept he posed a potential danger to all those around him. He'd torn apart tents, and nearly killed one of their warriors; who had survived only thanks to Azazel's quick actions. The only effective ways they'd found so far of stopping him was for Rogue to wake him, risking injury and using Logan's power to heal herself, or for Erik to bind him with metal when he slept.

Rogue smiled at Erik.  
"Of course I will come with you. Anyway, if we're fighting other mutants, you might need me." 

"Your ability could indeed come in helpful, thank you," Erik agreed, and she nodded. 

"I will do my best to help in any way that I can," Rogue promised, glancing at her bracelet. "If it's... I'd prefer to wear this on the journey..."

Charles nodded, reaching out and squeezing her hands. Erik focused on his food, until he felt Emma's mind nudge his. _Don't look so miserable, sugar, or Charles is going to be grateful for the reprieve when you leave._

Erik shot her a glare, but tried to carry on the conversation, discussing with Charles what his plans were for the education of the children, and the steps he wanted to take next for the trade deals he was negotiating. He felt his panic recede as he talked to Charles. 

Then the meal was over, and it was time to get ready. It was simple enough to prepare the pack he would take with him. He was practical about these things. He hesitated slightly as he felt Charles's chair approaching.

"Here..." Charles offered him one of the silver chess pieces. One of the pawns, from Charles's side of the board. "Take this with you, we'll play when you return."

"As you wish," Erik agreed, tucking it into a pocket next to his heart. He knew if he lost it it would be the work of an instant to create a replacement. He also knew he wouldn't lose it. Erik had not indulged much in superstition since his parents' death. But right now, he couldn't help feeling that if he kept this piece safe, he'd get back home to Charles.

 _You two are sickening,_ Emma's voice interrupted his thoughts. _If I'd known you were going to be this ridiculous around each other, I would have suggested we execute him at the start and be done with all of this._

 _Don't be so sharp, Emma, or we'll begin to think you care,_ Charles answered in his mind. Erik raised his eyebrow. Was his brain now to be used as a space for telepathic arguments that didn't even involve him?

_Yes,_ came two answers in perfect unison.

"I've got a headache," Erik muttered, and Charles kissed him softly, as Emma informed him that the war party were ready to depart.

Erik nodded, acknowledging her and deepening the kiss, before pulling away and stroking his fingers through Charles's hair.  
"I will miss you."

"I know." Charles smiled, heading over towards the door, glancing back over his shoulder. "But they need you."

"I suppose. Just... take care?"

"Oh, that's a shame." Charles smirked at him. "I was planning to get into as much difficulty as possible the moment that you leave."

"Of course you were," Erik answered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "But now that I've asked you not to, you won't." 

"Or I'll do it more just to worry you," Charles told him. "We'll be fine. Genosha managed with you gone when you fought Westchester, they can manage with you gone when you fight En Sabah Nur's forces. And I shall miss you, but you shall return." Charles's fondness blossomed through their mental link, and Erik knew that he would miss this. But he knew the wisdom of Charles's words, and was aware that his nation could not be left in safer hands. He leaned in to kiss him.

 _Oh for goodness sake,_ Emma's voice cut through his thoughts. _Hurry up or I'll send Azazel to fetch you._

Charles darted forwards for another kiss before pulling away, the two of them making their way out to the rest. Several horses were waiting, and some of the fliers were already making loops in the air above. Erik went to stand in front of his troops, speaking loudly, trusting Emma to project his words.  
"We ride out for victory. To aid our people. To vanquish a threat." He scanned the troops, his eyes meeting Psylocke's. "To help those in need and to return triumphant. We fight for mutants. We fight for Genosha."

"For Genosha!" the surrounding crowd echoed, and Erik climbed onto his horse, waving goodbye and then turning his back on those that remained of his nation, as those that chose to fight rode out in unison. They would return soon enough, with more of their number. 

Erik's heart ached a little to leave Charles. But he knew that his husband would thrive, with or without his presence. He made his way to where his generals were riding, nodding at Logan and Storm, then frowning as Azazel disappeared, only to reappear a moment later.

"You shouldn't do that," Storm said firmly. "You'll spook the horse."

"My horse is used to it. I say goodbye." Azazel flickered away again, and Storm rolled her eyes.

There was the smell of smoke, and then blue arms wrapped around Erik's waist.  
"You decided to join us then?" he asked, repeating his question in the tongue that he and Kurt shared. The youth nodded enthusiastically.

"Want you safe," he murmured, his Genoshan still a little uncertain. Erik nodded, and smiled at Azazel when he appeared again.

"Oh, there he is. Janos was worry he did not know. I will go tell him." 

There was another puff of red smoke, and Storm laughed, and Erik couldn't help laughing as well. Even Logan's lips twisted slightly in a smile, and when Azazel reappeared he was smiling broadly, his tail shifting from side to side. Erik felt light. He knew that they were fighting a dangerous foe. But he wasn't alone. He was surrounded by the strongest of Genosha's warriors, and he wasn't afraid.

He could feel the presence of Charles's mind slowly becoming weaker, but he kept pressing fondness through the link as long as he could, and as it faded, he heard Emma's voice in his mind.  
 _It won't be long. He's capable._

"I don't doubt him," Erik said softly. "I'm the one who will be struggling."

"We've been through this," Emma said softly, and Erik felt his chin lift slightly without him actively trying to do it, as Emma reached out with her telepathy. He repressed a shudder. She knew he hated when she did that. _Kings don't get to struggle, Sugar. They get to win. Charles understands that._

He nodded decisively, turning to Blink, who was going to take them partway, and then hang back at a safe distance.  
"You are ready?"

"Always, my lord." She concentrated, and a glowing circle appeared before her, slowly growing wider, stretching out through the air until it was large enough for the entire group to travel through. Unlike the lush ground that surrounded them under a blue sky, through the portal the ground was dry and cracked, the grasses a pale, sickly yellow, the sky darkening with twilight. A nervous murmur rippled through the crowd.

Erik spurred his horse on, speeding through the portal, Azazel and Emma following close behind. Emma's voice brushed his thoughts, the words bitter with annoyance.  
 _This could have been an ambush for all you know._

 _It wasn't,_ Erik pointed out, circling around on his horse as the rest of the party came through, Blink last of all. There was a moment, and then the portal slammed closed behind her. At this distance, there was no longer even the faintest hint of Charles's mind, and the loneliness ached. Erik glanced down at the vambraces, which he had used to create Charles's engagement ring, a concession to the Westchesterian traditions.

"You can see him sooner if you stop mope and we go and fight," Azazel pointed out, coming up beside him. "It will be dark soon, but we should travel a little further. This space is exposed. It is vulnerable."

Erik nodded. He would miss Charles, throughout this, but right now he couldn't afford to be Charles's husband, couldn't allow himself to feel lonely. He had a role to play, and his people needed him. Carefully bundling up his thoughts of Charles, he circled the crowd, then turned to Blink.  
"We thank you. We shall return, and I shall have Azazel bring you news." With that, he turned his attention to the terrain around them, his eyes drawn by the shadow of some distant rocks. "Azazel, see if those are caves."

The general blinked out of visibility for a moment, before returning and nodding.   
"A deserted cave system. Some have bats, but there are some that will provide shelter for a night at least."

"Then we go there." There was no point in demanding that Azazel transport them all. He would only exhaust himself. Better that they walk, and save his energy. Erik clambered down from his horse, leaving Kurt up there, and went to explain the plan to his warriors. 

Those of their number who could fly took to the air, circling around to ensure that their arrival hadn't been observed, as the rest began the march towards the cave system. Azazel and a few others went ahead, to scout out the cave system in more depth.

Erik watched the horizon carefully, waiting for any sign of distress. Eventually one of the warriors, a woman with large bat like wings, landed before him.  
"The lands seem deserted, my lord. There is a structure to the west, I cannot see it clearly at this distance, but here... there is nothing. The farms do not show any sign of life. The crops are dead."

"Thank you." Erik bowed his head to her. 

_That seems... unhelpful._ Emma's voice cut into his thoughts. _Surely they need crops to grow?_

Erik considered.  
 _With the right ones of our kind, they could resurrect the fields in moments._ He turned his attention to Psylocke, who looked nervous, her hand resting on the belt of the dagger she had been given.   
"What do you know of that structure?"

"Only that En Sabah Nur wished for it to be constructed," she answered, kicking at the dust beneath her feet to clear an area and then crouching down, sketching out a triangle. "He said it should enhance his powers once complete." She hesitated, and Erik walked closer.

"Psylocke. I promised you would be safe, but I must know what you know." He could hear Emma offering to check in her mind, but he refused. He wanted Psylocke to tell them what she knew willingly.

"He says... it will enhance all of our powers. Make us... capable of defeating everyone." She looked down.

"And you believe him?"

"I've seen enough," she said quietly, her gaze towards the direction that had been indicated. "He is powerful."

"You say people obey him through fear."

"Mostly." She nodded, looking away from Erik’s face. 

He hesitated. "What is it, Psylocke?"

"Something feels wrong," she murmured. 

Erik nodded.  
"Emma, I need you to search the surrounding area for any other minds, if you find any tell me. I need a couple of the fliers doing circuits. When we reach the cave I want a full exploration done, and we will take shifts through the night to ensure there is always a defence waiting. Storm?"

"Yes?"

"If you could be so kind as to provide us with some cloud cover and some fog?"

She smiled and nodded, closing her eyes and lifting up into the air a little, air whipping at her cloak, trailing it out before her as the sky above grew dark. After a few moments she landed on the ground, a slight smirk on her lips.

"Incredible as always," Erik praised her, taking his horse's reins and heading towards the cave system.

***

They had brought enough provisions to eat, despite the lifeless land they found themselves in, and the fliers estimated it would take no more than a few hours to reach the cliff tops overlooking the monument that was being created.   
"We move at dawn," Erik instructed them. "We're going to need to be fast, and careful. We won't necessarily be fighting humans this time, and that means that we will have to adapt to what faces us. But many of these mutants fight from fear. They are prisoners, and our goal is to liberate them. I am asking you to fight for us and for them both. It will not be easy, but that is why I have taken the finest warriors with me."

That night, sleep came easily. Something about the hard ground, and the noise of the troops, helped keep his nightmares away. Erik hoped he'd remember to tell Charles that, knowing his husband would be worried for him alone. 

Azazel curled up beside him.  
"You know, if you are lonely-"

"I got married less than a month ago." Erik stared at him. "You are -"

"I was merely going to offer to cuddle," Azazel lied, and Erik laughed, but he still ended up sleeping next to him, Emma a short distance away in her diamond form, Logan at the back of the cave, Storm at the front, taking turns to watch. It felt familiar. For a long time, Azazel and Emma had been the only peace he'd known, and they were a comfort now.

They all woke before dawn, emerging from the cave, and heading off in the direction of the monument, a cluster of figures snaking across the landscape as the sun rose.

As the air grew warmer, Erik could start to make out the triangle that Psylocke had sketched. An unease had settled over him, the metal of his vambraces twisting with each step. 

Silence fell over the group, the conversations that were taking place falling way, as though they were waiting for something.

"And here you are, just as I knew you would be." The voice that spoke in his head reverberated strangely, as though shouting into a canyon. He looked around. Beside him, Emma flickered into her diamond form, shaking her head. Azazel drew his knives, as blades slid from Logan's fists, and the air grew electric from Storm's power. 

Around them, the other warriors were readying themselves, other than Psylocke who looked pale, her dagger clattering onto the ground. Kurt appeared beside her in a burst of dark smoke, embracing her, and she shivered in his arms. They both looked terrified. Erik automatically moved so that he could guard them. But there was no present threat, no one to fight, only this mocking voice which addressed all of them. 

"You came, my children, as I hoped that you would. Dangle a little broken bait, let them think I make a mistake, watch it wriggle on the hook, and see what it draws in... and what a catch indeed. My tools, my warriors, my weapons."

The voice withdrew, and Erik felt his troop's eyes on him, saw the fear shining brightly. He lifted his head and nodded.  
"They know we're here. Now the fight begins."


	3. Blossom

Charles couldn't help missing his husband as he watched him riding away, taking with him most of their nation's warriors. He smiled though, as he kept a brush of affection against Erik's mind, fondness flowing from him for as long as the distance allowed. 

It wasn't long before Azazel appeared in a cloud of black smoke, embracing Janos and then disappearing again, and repeating the action a moment later. Janos let out a soft grunt of amusement, batting at Azazel's arms but then clinging to him tightly, kissing him before signing goodbye. Azazel returned once more, then disappeared, and Charles made his way over to Janos's side, sending a sense of warmth towards the deaf man. Janos nodded, squeezing Charles's shoulder, then carefully signing to him, the words slow.  
"We will be good."

Charles nodded.  
"We will," he echoed, his fingers moving with none of the grace Janos managed. Janos smiled at him brightly anyway, and Charles hesitated, speaking to those that remained. Little Kitty skipped over to him, standing nearby, and repeating what was said to Janos in quick movements of her small hands.

"While we wait for their return, we will ensure they have a land to come back to, full of food and plenty and hope," Charles addressed the crowd. It was strange. For so long under Marko, he had been sure he would never rule, seen as little more than a strange ornament. Too important to be disappeared, but too dangerous to be given access to his powers. And now, here he was with his ability freely available, and a nation that he ruled. He would miss Erik, of course he would. The other man felt like another part of him. 

But it would do no good to sit in sorrow, and wait helplessly. "We need to ensure that the warning systems for any attacks are maintained. Angel, will you be able to ensure that? Darwin, Alex, do you think you can keep up the children's combat training now Logan and the rest are gone?"

Alex nodded, moving to stand closer to his Genoshan husband, and Charles sent a wave of pride to Alex's mind. A few brief months ago, when they had first been brought to this land, Alex had been so afraid of the fire that burned within him that he had been willing to argue with the king to keep his power suppressed. Now here he stood, unafraid and in control, and Charles couldn't help smiling. He'd miss Erik, but he wouldn't wait and mourn. 

Before Marko, before Cain had - before the accident that had left him unable to stand without pain, Charles had been training to rule. He was born to be a diplomat, a peacemaker, and now he had the chance. For all Erik's strength, their people could not survive merely by fighting. They had to work with their neighbours, to gain control and to show that this nation was more than a few freakish upstarts. He could strengthen connections, work with those around them, ensure Genosha's place on the world stage. They would always respond to any threat to their stability with violence, but unlike Erik, Charles had hope that humans could be reasoned with, that brutality was not the only solution.

So they went about their day, Charles sending a few messages to the neighbouring kingdoms before taking a break to work with the children. Teaching the children of Genosha was one of the greatest pleasures of his life. He saw them thriving and knew that he and Erik were creating somewhere safe for them to grow and flourish. Some of these children had been born in Westchester, and others had been born here, or in other lands, taken as prisoners of war, and brought here to thrive. But each of them was a Genoshan child now. They adapted easier than the adults had, and he was glad for that. 

Only children, and already some had known pain or fear, but now they knew peace. He was teaching them the kind of knowledge that he'd always believed was reserved only for the elite. These children would read and write and be able to do mathematics, many already fluent in multiple languages, even learning to communicate with Janos, their small fingers learning the signs. Because these children were the elite, not due to their family but due to their nation. The gifts that some held meant no one would have to toil to an early death in the fields, or spend hours carrying water - not when a wave of Bobby's hand produced a block of ice that would be melted by Johnny, or even little Scott. These children were blessed, and Charles was glad he could care for them.

He was just finishing the day's lessons when Peter appeared at his side. He was bouncing from side to side, his eyes wide, and he looked distracted. Normally he'd stay out of the way when Charles was teaching, even try and learn a little, so the fact he was standing there impatiently was a concern. 

"Peter?" Charles asked with a frown. "Is everything alright?"

"Um..." Peter looked down and shrugged. "I don't know. I thought... I thought I saw something, but there wasn't anything in, only..." He hesitated. "Miss Storm said that there weren't many flowers this time of year."

"Well, not normally, although some of us can grow flowers," Charles pointed out. "I know that Angel has been growing some recently, maybe it was that."

"Maybe..." Peter mumbled, looking down. "I just... I thought I'd seen a field of flowers outside of the camp, but then it wasn't there."

"I think your eyes were just playing tricks on you," Charles tried to soothe him, even though he could feel the tension of Peter's mind. _Raven? I need you to go out and see if there's a sudden field of flowers._

 _Whatever you want, your highness,_ she answered, and he could feel her smirk. It certainly sounded like a silly request. But whatever it was, Peter was spooked.

Raven did what he asked though, and he was grateful for that. Raven had always been the best friend to him, even since childhood, and apparently that extended to indulging his irrational fears. 

He carried on talking to the children, listening to their ideas. A couple of the younger ones were near tears, because their mothers or fathers had left to fight. Charles listened, and tried to reassure them.

Little Bobby was sniffling to himself, and Charles wheeled over, using a scrap of fabric to wipe at the boy's face.  
"What's wrong Bobby?"

"What if they don't come home?" Bobby asked. "I don't... I don't want to not see them again, and… I don't want to have to fight, or..." He whimpered. "Sean said that if Westchester attacked we'd all be killed and… and I don't wanna be killed..."

"I'll talk to Sean," Charles said, frowning. The boy wasn't much older than Bobby, but Bobby was a sensitive boy and didn't need people putting scary ideas into his head. "And you wouldn't be killed Bobby, I used to live in Westchester, they don't kill mutants there." 

He hadn't exactly been well treated, when Marko had found out what he was. But he was alive, and the boy was concerned about being killed, not about being imprisoned or cut off from his ability. Charles was hardly going to give the boy a new fear. 

"But… our friends… they'll come back soon right?"

"They will," Charles reassured him, gently using his telepathy to calm him down slightly. He pulled Bobby into a gentle embrace. "You're going to be okay."

"Good... I don't... I don't want to go back to where I was before. My parents threw me out."

"No one will throw you out now," Charles promised. "You're one of us, Bobby. This place is your home." 

The little Genoshan boy wiped away his tears and nodded, and then looked nervous.   
"Is there anything I can do to help while they're gone?"

Charles looked at him fondly. So young, and already so determined to help them all.   
"Well, if you wanted maybe you could keep an eye on Scott? His big brother is helping keep us all safe, so if you help Scott then Alex won't need to worry, because he'll know that Scott's being looked after."

"Okay!" The boy's face lit up, his fears pushed aside with the ease of youth. "John can help too, John likes meeting new people and he needs friends so we can do that!"

"I know you can, Bobby," Charles encouraged him, watching as Bobby rushed off, and then feeling Raven's mind brush his own.

 _Well?_ he asked her, bracing himself for news of an attack.

 _Nothing to worry about. No rogue flowers, nothing out of place. You're just paranoid,_ Raven teased. _I'm going back to Hank soon, unless there's any menacing trees or rocks you want me to check._

Charles shook his head fondly.  
 _I think we can manage the local plant life. How is Erzengel today?_

_A little better. He seems to like Hank at least, although it's clear that he is missing Psylocke's company._

Charles sent a sense of understanding towards her, and then stretched and settled back into his chair. Dinner would be soon, and he wanted to check some of the trade agreements that had been made, as well as making time to check on those whose parents, partners or siblings had left in the war party. Erik trusted him to keep the kingdom running smoothly, and Charles was fairly sure that he could manage it, but he wanted to double check that everything was working to plan.

***

Dinner that night was as chaotic and full of life as normal. He ended up eating with Alex and Darwin, who had been doing well practising fighting with some of the teenagers that weren't yet combat ready. Scott for once had strayed from his brother's side, and was eating with John and Bobby, which made Charles feel a slight sense of pride. He knew that it was hard for Scott to make new friends. The visor that Hank had created meant that he was able to see vague shapes without destroying everything around him, but it still left him isolated from the other children.

That night, Charles lay in his bed in the tent that normally was shared with Erik, and he couldn't help feeling cold. He pulled the furs up over him, closing his eyes and trying to concentrate, to reach out towards Erik's mind which he knew was out there somewhere, probably reaching back to him. 

But there was nothing. The distance was simply too great.

Charles sighed, curling up over to his side, and telling himself that Erik would be fine. The man knew what he was doing. 

The light from the oil lamp glinted off their chess set, and Charles hoped that Erik still had the silver pawn with him, hoped it would serve as a comfort.

Before he slept, Charles let his mind run through the rest of the camp, brushing away tension and easing people towards sweeter dreams. He didn't invade, only skimming the surface of thoughts, but he still tried to leave a sense of comfort and reassurance. The people of Genosha, his people, deserved to sleep without fear. He could tell those whose job it was to guard the camp were still awake. They would take over keeping everyone protected until morning, and for now, Charles could rest.

His sleep wasn't peaceful that night.

The next day, he felt exhausted. It just didn't feel right, sleeping in his tent without Erik beside him. He felt exposed, and the air was too cold, and... Charles sighed to himself. He was being ridiculous, he had a country to run. He couldn't afford to sit here and pine just because his husband was away.

He ended up picking up one of the gold pawns, the counterpoint to the one that Erik had taken with him. It was foolish, but he couldn't help thinking that if he held it close, it might take away a little of the anxiety which gnawed sharply inside of him. He brushed his fingers over the metal, and felt his anxiety draw back at least a little.

He ate breakfast with the rest, talking to the children, but something just felt off. He wasn't sure what, exactly. A taste in the air of bitterness or ash, but he knew it wasn't there, wasn't real. Perhaps something was straying through his link with Erik despite the distance between them.

Janos sat down beside him, gesturing quickly.   
"Are you feeling well?"

"A little tired," Charles signed back, accompanying his actions with the words, spoken as carefully as he could. "You?"

"I miss him," Janos said with a shrug, pointing to his wedding ring. "He will come back."

Charles nodded, trying to shake away the concern and sadness which was gnawing inside of him, because it wouldn't help anyone if he was upset. Being upset wouldn't solve this. It would just make life harder for all of them, and that wasn't what was needed. He refused to be the kind of man that was helpless without his partner. Erik had asked Charles to rule alongside him. At times, it seemed as though Erik thought Charles a better ruler than he was. Charles refused to let him down.

Janos smiled at him a little sadly, reaching over and patting his hand, with something approaching tenderness. Charles managed a smile in response, trying to work out what would be happening that day, how he could best use his time. He spotted Alex, waved him over.  
"Do you think you could work on self-defence with the children today?"

"We will," Alex agreed, and Charles felt some of the tension that was knotting in his shoulders relax a little. That was good. He didn't want to push the children too hard or too quickly at their studies - simply because he had always enjoyed learning did not make it true of everyone. 

Raven walked over, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and leaning on the back of his chair.  
"You look miserable, Charles."

"I'm just..."

"Moping?" she suggested with a teasing smile. 

He snorted, but reached out for her telepathically.  
 _Something doesn't feel right._

 _Or you're sleepy and grouchy because you didn't get to curl up in Erik's arms, and you don't want to admit to yourself that's the problem so you're making up all kinds of bullshit. One or the other,_ Raven reasoned, and Charles nodded. He just couldn't stop thinking about what Peter had said. It didn't make sense. 

The whirr of thoughts surrounding him quieted slightly, and then fell away, as Jimmy wandered over and smiled up at him.  
"Hello!" the boy said cheerfully. He was looking so much healthier already, even after a few days of being somewhere he was safe and unafraid. Jean stood beside him, cuddling into his side. The little telepath still struggled with her shielding sometimes, and judging by her frown that was probably the issue now.

"Are you both okay?"

"Jean has a headache," Jimmy answered. "Can you fix her?"

"I can try, if you don't mind going away a short distance?" Charles suggested, unable to repair any gaps in Jean's shielding while the boy was stood beside him thanks to Jimmy's gift cancelling his own.

Jimmy nodded.  
"Okay! Thank you for helping her..." He backed away a short distance, and the thoughts came back. Charles slipped easily into Jean's mind, searching it. The flames that made up her shields had been damped down at points, revealing gaps that were causing the headaches. Charles helped her, providing the stone his own shields were based in as a foundation, helping her to thicken and strengthen her fires, and to temper the areas where the flame was burning too hot and too bright. By the time they parted again, his head was aching a little, but she was smiling.

"Thank you!" she whispered, throwing her arms around his neck. Jimmy looked up from where he had been sitting, clearly called by Jean's telepathy. He wandered over, and Jean took his hand, half-pulling him along and half skipping with him. Charles watched them going, allowing himself to relax.

"Charles?" Peter reached out for him, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "I don't.... I don't get it."

"What?"

"I saw those flowers again but they..." He hesitated, and then was gone again in a blink of an eye.

Charles groaned. Peter having hallucinations at the speed he went was definitely not a helpful development, but if that was the one that was happening, then they would have to handle it. He glanced around, then reached out telepathically for Peter, who had settled over with Jean and Jimmy. That was hardly a surprise, given that prior to their arrival in Genosha, it was Peter that had taken responsibility for looking after the younger two.  
 _Peter, it'll be alright. You can come and talk to me._

 _I don't want to talk to you, I don't want to talk to anyone,_ Peter thought back petulantly, and Charles almost rolled his eyes, before sending a wave of agreement back at the boy. 

_I'm here if you change your mind._

He made his way over to watch how Alex and Darwin were working with a few of the older children on their combat training. If Charles could live in a perfect world, it would be one where no child would ever have to learn how to fight. But they didn't live in that world, and in the world they lived, the best that he could do was ensure that his people were prepared to deal with any threat.

There was something niggling at the back of his thought, a strange pain as though he had a blister in his telepathy, and stretching out with his mind tugged at it. He curled his telepathy closer, trying to lessen the pain, wondering if he'd perhaps overexerted himself the prior night when he'd tried to check on everyone. 

He made his way over to Hank's cabin, knocking sharply on the wooden door. Hank pulled the door open, looking at him curiously.  
"What's wrong?" Hank asked.

"I look that bad?" Charles replied, then frowned as Hank look hurt and started to mutter explanations. He shook his head. "It's fine. I know. Thank you for asking." He sighed to himself. "I think I pushed myself a little hard. My telepathy is hurting me, I wondered if you'd ever dealt with something like that before."

"Not that I can think of," Hank admitted. "But I have some medicines here that should soothe the pain. We can see if that helps you at least, and go from there if you would like?"

"I... I would like," Charles conceded. The ache of his telepathy was becoming a problem - not loud enough to cause him distraction, but an ever constant pressure. He thought it likely he'd somehow injured himself on Jean's mental fires. The girl's power was unmatched, and there had been points where it was blazing too fiercely to control. Thinking on it, it was more than likely he could have accidentally caught himself on her thoughts, causing himself an injury. 

"These are the only painkillers Emma will use," Hank said after a moment, handing him a new vial. "For mental injury I mean, rather than physical. She says anything else leaves her feeling dull."

"I don't think Emma could ever be dull," Charles answered, and Hank smiled at him.

"Oh, she must like you," Hank murmured, grinning at him. "That is exactly how to win her onto your side."

"Only if she thinks I believe it," Charles reminded him. "Otherwise she will think I'm trying to insult her."

"And she likes you," Hank pointed out. "You can drink that. Try it, it should kick in shortly, and assuming your telepathy works like hers it shouldn't weaken it."

Charles did as he was told. He did trust Hank, he knew the other man was good at solving the unique problems that came with a mutant only nation. But it was still a little disconcerting to be given a liquid that would have an impact on his ability.

After a few moments, the pain of the pressure against his telepathy seemed to lessen slightly, but he could still track the different minds of the camp.   
"Thank you," he said honestly. "I'll let you get back to your work. How is Erzengel?"

"He is doing as well as can be expected. He keeps asking for Psylocke, I'm not quite sure he understands where she's gone. But I am keeping him comfortable, and he's growing stronger by the day," Hank answered. "I should get back to him. If you see Raven, could you ask her to come over, I think he'd like to see her." Hank's smile grew a little bashful. "I know that I would."

"I'll send her," Charles promised, an amused smile on his lips. He got back to his chair. 

He let Raven know that Hank was looking for her, and then decided he wanted to head to the river. He wasn't entirely sure why, but it seemed like a good plan, and there was nothing else he had to do at the moment. So he headed towards the river bank, slipping past the protective metal wall that Erik had created. It already had gaps in it due to Erik's absence, so it was easy to slip through.

The path to the river was one that he knew well. It was here that he and Erik had first made love, where they had finally given in to the obvious affection and desire they held for each other. It was here that they bathed together, that they wandered hand in hand, or Erik carried him. He wheeled along the familiar path, and hesitated a little at what he saw.

Out of sight of the main camp, there was a field of multicoloured flowers. Blues and whites and yellows, even the occasional dot of red, all waving and dancing in the breeze. He wheeled forwards, intrigued, reaching out towards them, but the flowers darted back from his fingertips, not letting him grab them.

He laughed slightly, reaching out again, moving deeper into the flowers. He felt almost like a child again, playing, unaware of the servants standing close by to ensure no harm came - until they were no longer there, and harm did come. The colours were impossibly vivid, beautiful, and he wanted to stay here. He closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of them.

With his eyes closed, the scent seemed to flicker, there one moment and then gone the next, before returning stronger than before. The pain was back too, the pressure against the edge of his telepathy, threatening at any moment to split open, building brighter and sharper, the pain more acute. And then the pressure split. 

His eyes flashed open, and the flowers faded away, showing glimpses of warriors beneath, and then the flowers were back, brighter than ever, impossibly, perfectly bright. He closed his eyes against the vivid onslaught, knowing he couldn't get out of where he was. His chair was slow, and he couldn't run. But he could warn the camp. 

He reached out, to every mind he could feel, telepathically shouting a single word.  
 _Hide._

He heard footsteps coming closer, and then he found himself pulled from his chair, a familiar weight slipping around his throat as the world around him went silent, the myriad of mental voices falling away. He opened his eyes.

Cain gazed back at him, hands still against the collar at his throat.  
"Hello, Charles."


	4. Combat

En Sabah Nur knew that they were here, that much was obvious. He had tried to lure them here, dangled Erzengel's broken body and Psylocke's ferocity, and waited for them to bite. And bite they had, the warriors of Genosha coming to defeat him.

Psylocke was still trembling, Kurt's arms around her the only thing that was keeping her on her feet.

"Kurt, go to Azazel," Erik ordered, using Psylocke's bracelet to help her remain standing. "Storm, cloud cover, as dense as possible please. Flyers, if you can trade out circuits - not you-" He pointed at three of their best. "The rest though, I need you piercing the cloud cover and looking for any danger."

Storm raised her hands, her eyes glowing white as she began, creating the cloud cover he had asked for, as Emma walked over to him.  
"This could be a problem."

"It's not a problem," Erik said, with as much sincerity as he could manage. We're going to be fine."

"He knows we're here. He's been expecting us," she murmured, and Erik nodded. 

"There was always a risk. We didn't have much chance of a total surprise."

"We could retreat back towards Blink," Emma suggested, and Erik looked at her in concern.

"I think we can handle this," Erik reasoned. "But more than that, if we can't... If we don't win, if we retreat, and he is able to get more powerful..."

Emma looked around their group and he could see her reaching the same conclusion he had. By engaging on Trask's territory, in bringing the fight to En Sabah Nur's army, those mutants who lacked the skills for war were offered a degree of protection. The children of Genosha were at home, safely within the metal walls of their camp. By fighting here, the children would be safe. Waiting would only let the enemy grow stronger, so that when they faced him a second time they were more likely to lose.

Emma nodded smartly.  
"Talk to Psylocke. I'll organise aerial patrols."

"Thank you, Emma," Erik said softly. With her in her diamond form she wasn't able to hear his thoughts, but he hoped his sincerity carried in his voice. She smiled at him.

"I know you wouldn't manage without me."

Erik shrugged, not bothering to argue with her about something that he knew was entirely true. He walked to Psylocke, who was still looking around, her breath a little too fast. He released his hold on her bracelet, stepping forwards and catching her as she stumbled, feeling almost guilty for leaving her waiting. But then he looked at his warriors, the men and women who had risked their lives to come here, and his compassion faded.  
"Did you know this was a trap?"

She shook her head.  
"I... I didn't know."

Erik looked at her. He might not have been a telepath, but he could see how afraid she was. The fear in her eyes wasn't aimed at him, he was sure of that.  
"Tell me about the escape?"

"I was... I was one of his horsemen. His... chosen ones. Erzengel had been as well but he... he was not strong enough. Lord Trask... he and En Sabah Nur disagree on much, but they agreed that a mutant fighting force... would be unstoppable. They worked to strengthen us. Trask with the aim of eliminating those mutants not under his control… He spoke of Genosha as a threat that he wished destroyed. And En Sabah Nur... he spoke of... creating new warriors. Finding the strongest." Her voice trembled.

"So you brought us here on his command?"

"Not... Not on his command. Not... Not even with his knowledge, I didn't..." She shuddered. "Erzengel was growing weaker by the day. With his wing so damaged he couldn't fly, and he was losing... losing a fight against a fever. Once he had been the most favoured among us but... he was going to die. I knew it. He'd been my friend, he still... he still was my friend, and I was watching him fade, day by day. Until one day he was left free of chains, with no guards, and... it was so easy. He was never heavy, not with his wings, not when he can fly." There were tears, shining in her eyes, but she blinked them back. "I chose to help him escape. To try and take him somewhere he would be safe, and from what I heard Genosha... Genosha was our one chance. Genosha was the only hope we had of finding safety."

She shook her head.  
"I stole him. I didn't question my luck because I either got lucky, or we both died. I thought I was simply... I hoped..." She looked Erik in the eye. "I led you into a trap, but not willingly."

Erik bowed his head slightly.  
"I understand."

He did understand. He could see how she would have chosen this path, even with the risks. How trying to save her friend had put them all in danger, but she'd not considered it because she couldn't refuse the opportunity she'd been handed.

"We keep moving," Erik told her, calling her blade up to his hand and presenting the hilt to her once more. "They know we're here. But that was always a risk. We bring the fight to them."

The look in her eyes was something like admiration, but then she was turning away, and Erik turned to the rest of them, seeing the unease that was twisting through the ranks.

"We fight. Because if we run, they come for our children, for those mutants that can't defend themselves. Every one of you has seen Erzengel. For Genosha's children we choose a different path. Onwards." 

He turned, and they followed.

***

It was moments like this, knowing he had the strength of Genosha’s army behind him, that Erik knew he was meant to rule. Not like Charles, born into a world that Erik would never truly understand. But these mutants were prepared to lay down their lives, if it came to it, to ensure that his wishes were carried out and the enemy defeated. Charles was an incredible man. The best Erik had known, and he was a leader for peace, one under whom Genosha would thrive. But for that to happen, they needed to be kept safe. That was where Erik and the rest played their part. 

They would fight in the knowledge that doing so spared other mutants this task. They advanced on to battle not driven by bloodlust, but because those that were driven in such a way needed someone to stop them. To stand drenched in blood, between those that attacked and those that needed protecting. This was what Erik had been born for.

They advanced across the darkened plains, Storm keeping up a constant swell of cloud cover, offering them a degree of protection from what lay ahead. The party advanced quietly, not silent, but subdued.

Azazel materialised beside Erik, and he didn’t even stumble, turning towards his friend.  
“What is it?” Erik asked.

“I’ve been trying to see ahead. They’re lined up-”

“To attack?”

Azazel shook his head, indicating two lines in the air with his fingertips.  
“Not to attack. They are waiting. Like… a procession. They are ready for us.”

Erik closed his eyes, just for a moment, feeling the solid weight of the silver pawn in his pocket, and then opening his eyes once more.  
“They really do know we are coming then. How… How do they look? Are they armed?”

“Not that I could see,” Azazel answered. “Some… Many among them look afraid. They are not armed. Merely waiting.”

Erik nodded, swallowing down his fear because that was familiar. The idea of a victor riding in triumph through his people, parading the prizes he had won - taking the chance to emphasize how much he had gained over those that in a better world he would have been in charge of protecting. He remembered seeing fine metals and rich jewels and knowing that he was another one of those stolen treasures, and feeling hunger gnawing within him and knowing that he would gladly trade every jewel bestowed upon him for a real meal.

Not for those of Trask’s kingdom victory banquets and laughter, dances and games late into the night. Only fear, and demonstrations of wealth that were meaningless to those who watched with pain and terror coiled deep within them.

“So, we are to star in En Sabah Nur’s ceremony, whatever form it may take,” Erik answered, forcing an amused smile onto his lips. 

Emma sauntered over, standing a little closer than she normally would, her hand resting on her hip.  
“Apparently we’re the guests of honour,” she told him. “I can feel him - he has a telepath, but i can block them, and have been…”

“Thank you, Emma.”

“My job would be easier if you weren’t moping quite so loudly.” There was the flicker of a smile on her face, and he nodded quickly. 

“I’ll try and be quieter.”

“See that you do.” She reached out, brushing her hand against the vambrace over his wrist, hiding the burn scars from a lifetime ago. She wandered away, to talk to someone else, and Azazel nodded at him sharply.

“We will win,” Azazel said, with the certainty of someone who knew that the alternative was unthinkable. Because they both knew that failure here wouldn’t just condemn this army - it would fail their nation. Genosha’s reputation and role as a haven for mutants would be shattered, and their children would suffer. They would win, because there was nothing that they could do but win.

Storm floated down through the air, landing beside him.   
“We’re almost there.”

“I’ll need your lightning. Keep us under cover as much as possible.”

“I will do what I can.” 

He reached into a pocket, pulling out a bag full of a couple of dozen small metal spheres, each the size of the tip of his little finger. “If you can get these above the battlefield-”

She nodded, pouring them out onto her hands, and then letting the breeze take them, lifting them into the air. In a fight, she could use the spheres to target her lightning, and they provided Erik with weapons that he could send crashing down with a thought. He watched them swirl out of sight, taking another careful few steps forwards when the voice in their heads made itself known once more.

“My children… I knew that you would come, that you would fight. Each of you has such strength within you. I can help you, strengthen you, teach you, guide you. I offer you your chance, now. Step forwards and surrender, and no harm shall come to you. Even you, my tempestuous daughter who stole away my angel - even you have a chance at forgiveness, should you surrender to me.”

 _It’s a trap,_ Emma’s voice sounded in his head.

Erik arched an eyebrow at her. _Thank you for that insight, Emma. I never would have known without your assistance._

He turned to his troops, seeing the concern written on their faces. There was a sudden movement, and then Kurt was beside him, one strange blue hand reaching for Erik’s own. Erik reached back, squeezing him tightly for a moment. Kurt looked up at him, and there was such trust there. Erik wondered if he should have allowed him to come here. 

“Kurt,” he said softly. “Keep close to Psylocke. If something goes wrong, I want you to get her to safety if you can, do you understand me?”

Kurt hesitated, and Erik knew he was asking too much of the boy. But he couldn’t let Psylocke get caught again if she was that afraid. Slowly, Kurt nodded, gazing up at him with concern in his eyes.

"Thank you," Erik said softly. He cared for Kurt, and he wanted to make sure that he would be safe, whatever happened. Giving him a task would help.

Storm's clouds lifted, and they found themselves standing at the ridge of a hill, the monument that Psylocke had explained and the fliers had seen looming out of the mist in front of them.

It was by far the largest structure Erik had seen in his life, dwarfing the castles of Westchester and the other lands he had fought. And before it, arranged in lines - like Azazel had said, En Sabah Nur's people, waiting. He couldn't help scanning the crowd. picking out the children that were there, many of them bristling with physical mutations. 

_Some of them, their minds feel empty. He's controlling them - I suspect a telepath, maybe even in that structure,_ Emma explained, and she sounded uneasy.

A giant of a man strode forwards, through the avenue of the crowd. He was flanked by two men and two women. Erik reached for his metal spheres, calling them forwards, sharpening them with a thought and sending them. They fell from the air before they reached the man, unable to pass through some invisible barrier that had settled before them.

The man spoke, and there was a distance between them, but his voice carried.  
"My children, you have arrived. I ask you now to come forwards, to join me. So that I can help you. I can see my wayward daughter has returned, and I offer her absolution if she comes to me now."

Psylocke tensed, and then yelped as her body lifted off the ground, a telekinetic mutant pulling her closer.

Kurt leapt up, his arms fastening around her waist, and a moment later both of them blinked from sight.

Erik snarled, anger and fear bubbling inside of him, and he looked around, for any sign of where Kurt had gone. He should never have brought him to war, never should have put the boy in danger.

But then the man was speaking again, and Emma's voice was in his mind as well.  
 _He got her out. Just like you said._

En Sabah Nur was laughing, the sound dangerous as it echoed through Erik's mind.  
"You will learn, they cannot run from me. None of our kind can run from me... I see you need to be brought to heel-" At that, he raised his hand, and a few of the mutants peeled away from the rest, running towards them, one sprouting bone spikes as another breathed flame, and a third seemed to glow with energy.

Erik raised his own hand, signalling his troops forwards. There was no time now for mercy, or for care. What mattered was trying to keep as many of his people alive as he could, and holding the line because they were the only defence Genosha had. He wished he was close enough to still hear Charles's mind.

The sides met, his metal whirling against the invisible barrier, as En Sabah Nur floated above the battle, avoiding hits from the fliers, Storm's lightning dancing away from him as though he were protected in a glass sphere. 

Erik couldn't focus on the battle as a whole. The only danger, the only real threat - was En Sabah Nur, and the telepath he was using to enhance himself. If he could someow bring those down - he couldn't focus on that thought, couldn't give it away, just lifted up into the air, using the metal of his vambraces and his sword to hold him up, going to meet En Sabah Nur. He could hear the sounds of battle, dodging walls of flame and flashes of ice, reaching out to En Sabah Nur, calling metal forwards.

Shards of it twisted around the older mutant's wrists, his throat, his legs, and Erik tried to concentrate on bringing him down, on tightening the grip. The man gasped, and looked up into his eyes, and then slowly, coldly, he began to smile. The metal against him turned to sand, and when he spoke Erik was sure the sound was only in his mind.  
"My son, you have so much to learn, but I will teach you-" 

Erik almost fell from the sky, lowering himself quickly, the other mutant smiling at him, as he remembered a phantom hand in his hair. He gripped his sword, and he could feel blood in the air but none of that mattered because he'd fallen and he refused to be on his knees for this man. He scrabbled in the dirt, trying to force his way to his feet, to force himself to be ready to fight, and the man was laughing as he stared down at him.

"Oh, my son..." he murmured, and Erik got his feet under him, stood, and a brush of the man's hand sent him wheeling backwards, and he wasn't weak, he wasn't, he was the ruler of Genosha and he couldn't afford to lose this fight, and he could picture Charles and he held on to that as he tried again, calling the spheres from the air, sharpening and splitting them, moving faster than the mind could follow. He acted on instinct, creating a weapon because he needed it, and as each sphere failed to find its target he called forth the next, and En Sabah Nur was stepping closer, and Erik stumbled over a figure and for a moment he thought it was his mother's body on the ground.

 _Focus_ Emma's voice cut through to him, and he tried. He could see Logan fighting another man, claws extended, snarling in fury as he was pushed back. Storm was still flying, sending out lightning bolts. There was fire dancing behind them, hemming them in, trapping them, and as he looked up again En Sabah Nur was closer than before, reaching for him, and he forced himself to stand, to step back, to try and fight because he couldn't give up -

A sudden whipcrack, and then darkness.

Erik woke on a cold surface. He took a few deep breaths, panting from exhaustion from the fight. It was dark, and he could hear his breathing echoing strangely. He called a blade to his hand, and this time it came easily.

"I am sorry., Azazel's voice was soft, carrying a wheezing undertone that Erik knew from past experience was a bad sound. It was the sound of someone who couldn't breathe properly. Azazel coughed, the sound rattling, and Erik could hear his pain.

"Azazel, we have to go back-"

"I can't," Azazel whispered, coughing again, and then almost falling. Erik gathered what metal there was around him, lifting it, then bending and straightening it as fast as he could, the movement heating it until it began to glow.

What it showed wasn't good. They were deep in a cave, and Azazel was collapsed on the floor, trembling, deep gouges across his chest. He looked in a bad way, and his breaths were becoming shallower by the second. He was coughing again, and Erik flinched, knowing what he needed to do. He called forwards some of the hollow metal, shaping it into a tube, and looked Azazel in the eye.

His friend nodded and Erik stabbed it into his chest, waiting, until after a moment he was rewarded with the hiss of air escaping, and Azazel's next few breaths were deeper - not deep enough, but still, stronger than before.

"You better not die on me," Erik muttered. In the distance, he could feel the battle, but it was too far for the sound to carry, and he couldn't track individual weapons. "You... You shouldn't have done that, Azazel. You should have got yourself out."

Azazel shrugged.  
"I stand by it. What will you do? Kill me?" Azazel whimpered, and Erik moved to apply pressure to his friend's cuts, already working out how to stitch them closed. It wasn't going to be pleasant for him, not in the least. But he could keep him alive.

Erik frowned at him. He knew if he left Azazel, the other man had no chance of surviving. But he was meant to be fighting, with the rest of them. He was meant to be keeping his warriors strong. He was meant to go down with them. He'd never been one to fight from the security of the back, sending forth his generals without caring if they returned. Only now he knew if he walked away, he'd be condemning his oldest friend to death.

Azazel looked up at him, his eyes glowing strangely in the light the metal was providing.  
"We need to regroup, and plan."

"You're just saying that so I don't leave you to die," Erik muttered, but he reached out and brushed some hair from Azazel's face.

"Doesn't mean... it not true. I need time if I am to get reinforcement. Right now..."

"Right now, you rest." Erik swallowed. "I'll stay with you." He reached out with his mind, searching for Emma, for news of his warriors.

When her mind reached his, he could feel despair.  
 _Stay low. I'll be in touch. It's too late._ With that, she slipped away from his thoughts, leaving him sat beside his friend.

Azazel was still bleeding. Carefully, Erik began to examine the gashes.  
"So when did you know?" Erik asked, gazing across at Azazel, watching the unnatural pallor of the other man's skin. "With Janos, I mean."

"We were... we spent time together, because... It was expected. And he had taught me enough… we could talk, a little. And I made him laugh. And he said... He said I was a good man, and a handsome man, and I..." Azazel gasped, struggling slightly for air. "I tried to argue. And the little shit closed his eyes and stuck his tongue out at me. And I knew then that damn, I'd do anything for him. What about... What about Charles?"

"Knew he was handsome even sat there when we were holding peace talks. Knew I could have him - knew that's what they expected of me. And I tried to push it down, to ignore it, to pretend it... that it wasn't there. Because I... I couldn't be _him_ , because I was better than that. And I saw Charles with the children, and he... He deserved more than that. And then Logan shook some sense into me, and so did Janos. and I... I don't know. It was... it wasn't at first. I desired him, I didn't... But soon. I don't know how anyone could be near Charles and not love him." 

"You're a romantic sap," Azazel pointed out, groaning slightly when he tried to adjust his position.

Erik walked over to adjust him, sitting with Azazel resting against his shoulder. "Get your strength back," he ordered, pulling some of the glowing metal close so he could see to stitch the wounds closed. Azazel cried out, and Erik pinned him so he couldn't struggle as Erik stitched up the wound.   
"Don't you dare leave me," he insisted. 

Azazel nodded, cries fading into whimpers as Erik worked.


	5. Capture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Warnings for ableism, and just...generally Cain being an awful, threats of sexual violence)

Charles couldn't believe he'd been this stupid. He should have been defending them. He'd known something was wrong, and he'd still been pulled away, distracted - and that couldn't just be him. There was another telepath, or something. And now here he was, trapped, Cain glaring down at him the way he had in his nightmares. He remembered the relief he'd felt when Erik had freed him, the silence that had devoured his mind for so long being broken and now it was back, and Erik was gone, and he was afraid.

He couldn't let himself be afraid, not when his people needed him.

Charles swallowed, feeling Cain's hand against his throat, and then licked his lips, speaking clearly.   
"Hello, Cain. I wasn't... expecting to see you again."

"Since you went off with that freak?" Cain asked, laughing. 

"Westchester surrendered. Unconditionally. I didn't exactly have a choice." Charles looked down.

"I bet you were glad though." Cain sneered at him. "Taken away by that man, did he find some use for you? He said he wanted you."

Charles bit down his urge to argue, to try and defend Erik's honour. Because about the only thing that was currently on his side was the fact his step-brother was willing to believe that everyone was as awful as he would be. It was easy to call up tears, terror of what would happen next meaning they formed and slid down his face. Charles felt humiliated, but he knew he had to take care not to appear as a threat. He shifted his hand, sliding off the ring that Erik had crafted with such care and tucking it against his palm.  
"He had me. Repeatedly."

Cain snorted, half-dragging him from the chair.  
"He's a sicker man than I thought if he wants a broken thing like you in his bed."

Charles let his legs buckle as he was dragged from the chair, Cain throwing him into the mud. He half-noticed that the flowers were gone now.   
"He wanted a mutant. He knew I was a prince. That... was all that mattered," Charles said, feeling like a monster as he betrayed his husband, but he knew he had to play the victim, had to make people think he was helpless.

Cain certainly thought that, dragging him back to the camp. Charles tried to keep up, for a few moments, before his legs failed him and he crumpled to the ground again, knowing his elegant clothes were stained with mud and his legs scraped. Cain threw him into his chair, shoving it roughly, and all Charles could do was sit there and try to stay calm, to hope his people had got away.

They hadn't.

His eyes scanned the crowd. His people, collared and terrified, and he strained to reach out to them but the collar blocked it. He couldn't help noticing a few faces missing from the crowd. Peter was nowhere to be seen, and nor was Jean, although Jimmy was there - and that was horrifying, to know that Peter would have had to leave him because of Jimmy's gift. Scott was gone, and Alex was looking around frantically. There was no sign of Raven, or of Hank. 

This hadn't been the work of a few moments, or a few men. Westchester's army were amassed here and they'd attacked at once.

"Kneel," Cain ordered, and a few did - mostly those from Westchester, although Alex remained standing. Erzengel had knelt, supported by a man with brown hair that Charles hadn't seen before. Then Cain pulled Charles's head back, placing a blade against his throat, close enough that Charles could feel it digging in as he breathed. "If you don't want your king's pet dead, then kneel."

They knelt, for him, and Charles longed for his telepathy, to tell them not to. Then there was a sharp cry, and Charles looked over without turning his head to see one of the men punch Janos in the face.  
"Don't!" Charles pleaded, turning to Cain. 

"He wasn't kneeling. I'd have thought you would want him to obey, given how fragile your position is."

"He... He can't hear you," Charles said, his words carrying. He saw Kitty, kneeling near Janos, fingers flickering in quick movements as she translated their words. "He's deaf."

"We could just kill him if he won't cooperate-"

"He helps me," Charles said, trying to think, not sure if what he was saying made any sense but trying to put conviction into it. "The... The king lets him help me. It’s not like I can plot an escape with him, but... it's tiring to move my chair, so he does it. And he..." Charles hated the thought of saying it, but it would be a good excuse. "He... served the king, before. So he works as my… assistant."

Cain laughed at that, eyes shining with sadistic glee.  
"Perfect, brother. The stupid little boy who would never shut up, a worthless bedwarmer with only a deaf whore for company... Maybe this king is merciful after all, not inflicting your conversation on anyone. Fine. He can push your chair home if you're too broken to walk, but if you try anything I'm happy to kill him. There's plenty of others here that can shove you around."

Kitty was still translating, even though she was pale with fear. Charles wanted to shout, to scream, but he nodded calmly.  
"Why did you come back for me?"

"Not for you. Father made a deal with Lord Trask. He's going to get rid of the warriors, and take some of you for his little ...experiments, and we have the rest of you as prisoners and servants. You can sleep easy tonight, Charles. That 'king' is probably already dead."

Charles felt his insides twist, knowing that Cain wasn't the type to lie about that. He couldn't imagine losing Erik. He could see the fear on the faces of the Genoshan people, and tried to reassure them, a fragile smile on his lips. He couldn't give up. If he was the only king Genosha had left, he wouldn't let the nation end in defeat. But for now, he had to keep them alive.

He thought of his journey to Genosha, trying to prepare the children for the worst. But the worst was coming now, and there was nothing he could do, no breaks under the trees to teach language while eating exotic fruits. Only the future of Westchester's jails, and resuming his place as the failed son of a queen who barely knew where she was, let alone the face of her only child.

He looked at the guards around them, outnumbering them. Anyway, they were powerless, and much of the party was young or old. They would have to go along with this, because any attempt at fighting would lead to a massacre.  
"We'll go with you. We won't fight." He said it in Westchesterian, hoping that those who understood it would pass it on. He heard the conversation ripple, whispered between them.

Cain snorted.  
"You wouldn't survive a moment if you tried."

He turned, signalling for the guards to lead them off.

One of the guards stared at them, an ugly scar splitting his face, across his eye. It took a moment for Charles to place why it looked familiar - that was the same scar as Azazel had. 

As Charles frowned, the man's eyes flickered yellow for a moment, and Charles felt himself relax, nodding in acknowledgement. Because at least now, he knew where his sister was.

***

He'd been right to assume the journey home would not be easy - the soldiers setting a pace that the Genoshan prisoners could barely keep up with. The children struggled. Charles watched them from his seat, trying to murmur encouragement. He at least was in his chair, and it meant he wasn't being exhausted the way the others were. He looked at Darwin, who was carrying one of the youngest on his shoulders, and another in his arms, as Alex took a turn pushing the chair, allowing Janos to rest.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in Genoshan. He should have been stronger, should have warned them.

"Some got away," Darwin said firmly. "You did what you could. We can do this."

Charles nodded, not commenting on the fact Darwin no longer had enhanced strength, that he was visibly struggling to keep going while carrying the children. Because if they couldn't keep up, Cain's men would have no issue in simply killing those who fell behind.

He saw Bobby stumble and crash to the ground, letting out a sharp yelp as one of the soldiers kicked his ribs. John rushed to him, the other boy trying to help him up, and receiving a blow that sent him sprawling in response.

Charles caught Darwin's eye, seeing the anger there.  
"Bring him over here, he can sit on my lap for a little while."

Darwin nodded, going to retrieve the boy. As he did so, Charles realised he was only making moving himself harder. He might be saving Bobby at the cost of Alex. He felt a sick chill in his stomach at the idea that might be the kind of calculation he had to make.

The soldiers were on foot, regarding the prisoners with distrust, as Cain and a few others took to the front on their horses, and a cart of supplies was trundled behind. Darwin placed Bobby carefully in Charles's lap, and the boy whimpered, pressing his face into Charles's shoulder. Charles shushed him, rubbing his back and muttering meaningless lies of reassurance, because it wasn't okay, no matter how many times he said it. They weren't safe. 

His chair bumped slightly, and then there was another cry, Erzengel falling. The stranger tried to lift him, and one of the soldiers approached again, before there was shouting, and Erzengel was grabbed and thrown into the cart.

"You can't throw him!" snapped the man who had been helping him. Charles winced as the nearest soldier responded by punching him in the jaw.

"Darwin, can you-"

Darwin nodded, going to grab the man before he got into a fight. As he got closer, Charles looked at him, struck by the physical mutation of strangely shaped feet. Genosha's population wasn't that large. He knew he hadn't met this man before. He thought though, that mutation looked familiar.

The walk continued, some of the stronger men pushing his chair, Charles feeling helpless but giving the children a chance to rest. Charles scanned his memories, trying to work out where he had seen that mutation before, longing for his telepathy.

His eyes widened as he remembered what he'd seen - the memories Erik had shared of sending metal into Logan's body, wrapping it around his bones as Logan had screamed, Emma holding him down. There had been a girl in the room. Essex's adopted daughter, one he had experimented on. She had the same mutation as this man. 

He'd been too caught up in what he'd seen of Erik's memories to consider her that day. He'd assumed she'd died, or that she had left Genosha, but slowly realisation began to dawn on him. Someone who had been experimented on as a child, whose physical mutation created from science wouldn't respond the same way as a natural mutation. Someone who understood how experiments worked, who was clever and strange and cared for those who were harmed.

He looked up at the man walking beside him.  
"Hank?"

"Charles?" Hank answered, uncertainty and fear written across his face, and Charles swallowed down his own anxiety. 

"I'm going to do everything I can to get us through this, but I need you to not fight people about Erzengel."

"He's fragile, they could destroy him if they aren't careful."

"And it'll happen either way," Charles said quietly. "If he's injured, he needs someone he trusts to help him. You can't do that if you're dead." He looked at him. "We'll be alright." 

"I know," Hank murmured, and he sounded certain. Charles wished he could echo that certainty, but he nodded and smiled at him.

"I want you to try and keep people healthy," Charles said quickly. "We're going to have to act quickly, and I need as many of us strong as possible. Do you think you can do that for me?"

"Yes, my lord," Hank said softly, and Charles took a deep breath, focusing on that title. On the idea that to these people at least, he was still a ruler. Cain had made a mistake, telling him his plan - working with Trask, planning to sell off some of the prisoners for experimentation. It made Charles certain that they would have to act quickly. 

Cain had never seen him as worthy of respect. Charles had always despised it, feeling like Cain should have seen him as an equal. But now he didn't care about that at all, all he cared about was his people. And seeming weak would help. It would make sure that Cain would underestimate him. They continued to journey on.

Cain jumped down from his horse, walking beside the chair, sneering at him.  
"You haven't thanked me yet," he pointed out. "We came to rescue you."

"I'm not entirely certain that being thrown into a dungeon counts as a rescue, Cain,." Charles muttered, shooing Kitty from his lap. 

"We aren't going to throw you in a dungeon, Charles. You aren't one of these freaks, not entirely. It'll be good, to have you back advising us. Rescued from that monster. So you should thank me."

Charles forced down the anger that bubbled in him, knowing that the Markos would display his return as a sign of their strength and victory. He wasn't a person, not in their eyes. Just a tool. He had to stay calm, play at being reasonable, grateful. He nodded, ducking his head.  
"Thank you, Cain. I'm... I'm sorry. It was… such a shock, I could scarcely believe... Thank you." He looked up at him, hoping that his stepbrother would buy the act, see Charles as a traumatised victim who was hardly able to believe how lucky he was to be freed. He reached out for Cain's hand, and Cain jolted away slightly, frowning.

Charles smiled up at him, feigning simpering gratitude, because that was what Cain needed. "You've been so kind, to rescue us..." He could feel the pressure of his ring where he had hidden it in his pocket, alongside the chess piece he had taken with him earlier in the day. 

He had to hope that he would know if Erik was dead. He believed he would, even deprived of his powers. He trusted that his bond was strong enough that he could tell, even though he knew that was a child's dream, deprived of logic or reason. He couldn't let himself think otherwise, not when he had to be strong.

Cain looked at him in something that could almost have passed as concern, perhaps wondering if Charles had lost his mind. Charles didn't mind that. Hell, he'd rather be walled up somewhere than have to endure day after day of life the way he'd lived before, powerful enough to be kept close but too weak from losing his power to fight.

"Most of these children were prisoners. They could... They could be useful, within Westchester. That boy, there-" He scanned the crowd, indicating Jimmy, hoping that there was a chance his brother was enough of a fool to believe his lies. "He is a human."

"Humans aren't allowed in Genosha." Cain looked at the boy curiously, beckoning him closer.

"They aren't, but he was an experiment. A test subject. You can take his collar off, there's nothing that he can do to harm you. Nothing will change." Aside from if there was a telepath among Cain's forces, having Jimmy's powers unleashed might knock them out. It was a bold move, but with Cain having no way of recognising Jimmy's gift, it would potentially work.

Cain was frowning, but without his telepathy Charles couldn't be sure if he was believing the lies. He hated how vulnerable he felt at that moment, how helpless, not able to be sure if he was having an effect.  
"I'll speak to father," Cain said, ending that conversation, and turning his attention from Jimmy. Charles saw the guard with the scar - the guard that was Raven - moving forwards to help the boy. He realised that if he wasn't careful, he'd put her at risk by freeing Jimmy. He hoped she'd have the sense to get away - the sphere of influence Jimmy had wasn't that large. She should be fine.

Charles tried to stay calm, as Cain continued to walk beside him, not flinching when the brute thumped him in the arm.  
"So, Charles. You must have been missing us."

"I… I was. I didn't think you were coming."

"Like I said, we didn't come for you." Cain snorted. "I don't want you thinking that I care either way if you're alive or not, although it was an insult to our country, the crown prince as some barbarian's plaything. If you'd had any honour you would have died before you let that happen."

"It's not like he gave me access to a blade," Charles murmured. "Too afraid I'd stab him in his sleep."

Cain slapped him hard on the shoulder, a loud bark of laughter escaping him.  
"Not quite as worthless as I thought..." He paused, glancing around. His eyes settled after a moment. "That woman, where do I know her?"

"That's Angel. She was Stryker's wife, taken prisoner when he was killed because of her mutation-"

"Another of your master's pets?"

"She was married off to one of his generals," Charles said quickly, not liking the look in Cain's eye. He leaned back against Alex's hands, a silent warning to him to stay calm. Alex's hand brushed his shoulder.

"Do you think she'd like to be with a real man?" Cain asked, smirking. Charles felt a little sick, knowing Cain wasn't just trying to provoke him - that Cain thought Charles would find his comment as funny as Cain did.

"I think that would be too risky, yet," Charles bargained, his heart racing. "She might be pregnant from the general. If you leave it a few weeks, you could be certain - she's royalty, near enough. It'd be better to do things formally rather than damage alliances. Although obviously you should ask your Father what he thinks is best."

"You better not wish her for yourself, Charles."

"I can promise you I don't," Charles told him, fighting down nausea, because he couldn't panic, couldn't be uncertain, not while he bargained for his people's safety. "Cain. You can't expect these people to walk all the way to Westchester without a break."

Cain laughed.  
"Oh, I don't expect that. We aren't walking there." With that, he climbed back on his horse.

Charles slumped slightly in his chair, and Alex patted his shoulder, leaning down to whisper in his ear.  
"Did you honestly just say Storm might have got Angel pregnant?"

Charles felt his lips turn up in a slight smile, nervousness making him shake. At least he'd got away with that lie. Alex ruffled his hair, and Charles felt himself relax.

It was dark before they stopped, in a large clearing. A man stepped forwards, and then grabbed hold of some of the children, and a moment later they disappeared. After a few seconds he flickered back.

Charles looked around, confused, until Cain sauntered over.  
"Trask lent us a teleporter. John Wraith. A very useful man. He's going to bring you all home to Westchester, and you can put all of this nastiness behind you. You'll be back where you belong. Isn't that good?"

"Yes," Charles said softly, staring up at him. Then the teleporter returned and gripped the chair, and there was a burst of brilliant light, and they were back in the hall in Westchester, where Charles had first seen Erik during peace negotiations.

He hadn't known then, how life would be within Genosha. He'd despised Erik, he hadn't known the man he was, or how deeply he would come to love him. Charles blinked back tears, resting his head against the back of his chair, looking at the small crowd of prisoners that grew larger every few seconds, as the teleporter brought more of them through. 

Cain was still beside him, smirking.  
"You're home."

"Thank you." Charles gritted out the words.

Last of all was the cart. He watched as Hank approached it, Raven in her new form beside him, lifting Erzengel down. Erzengel clung to Hank's shoulder, glancing around in confusion, seemingly trying to work out why he was no longer in the Genoshan camp.

Cain whistled slightly. "Now Charles, you can't tell me he might be pregnant."

"No, but he's in need of medical treatment if you want him to live," Charles muttered, and Cain huffed but nodded his agreement, and Charles realised that the countdown he was working on to get them out of here, to save his people, wasn't very long at all. "The man with him is a doctor. I think he can look after him, and any who are injured. Just assign him a guard. Any one." Charles longed for his powers. With them, it would be the work of seconds to make Cain listen, to free all of them. But without it, he had to rely on Cain taking the path of least resistance. Which right now, meant choosing the guard who was closer to Hank than any others.

Cain shrugged, gesturing at the one closest. "You, with the ugly scar. I want you to supervise that doctor and make sure he gets that one healthy."

"Yes, Lord Cain," Raven said coldly, bowing smartly.

"Take them to one of the rooms near mine," Cain ordered, then turned back to Charles. "Father will be here to see you soon. I am sure he'll be delighted you have returned."

"As delighted as I am to be back," Charles answered, watching as Raven led Hank and Erzengel away. Cain walked away, talking about fetching his father, leaving the prisoners alone with their guards.

Charles watched him leave, before looking around at the remaining group. They were collared and afraid, but he had to believe he could find a way to help, so that all of them could get out. He searched through the assembled group, signalling for Janos to come closer, signing to him quickly.

"We will escape." A moment later, he repeated it in Genoshan, before he began to speak in Westchesterian, watching as a few of the others took it upon themselves to pass the message on. A few of the children were cowering, and he knew that when Marko came, they'd be taken away to the dungeons. 

"We are in Westchester now. I know that this is frightening, for all of you, but we must be strong." Charles glanced at the guards, and decided he could risk a few words of Genoshan. The guards seemed distracted, barely seemed to realise he was there, their gazes a little blank. He swapped languages in a heartbeat. "I will get us out. We need to stick together, and stay strong. I promise you, we will find our way home. Look after each other, and don't give up hope."

Charles felt eyes upon him, and turned around to see a little girl in a white dress staring at him. He blinked, and she disappeared, as the guards looked at him and the rest of the Genoshans, and he felt weak in his chair. He heard conversation echoing from the corridor beyond. He looked at his people, and tried to smile, even if it felt hopeless.   
"Follow my lead," he ordered, and when Kurt Marko swept in, he lowered his head in a bow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoping to update twice a week from now on! Feedback is always incredibly appreciated.


	6. Endurance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Warnings for injuries and blood)

Erik's hands were slippery with blood, holding closed the gashes, knowing that the red that splashed across his skin should have been keeping his friend alive. He worked quickly, sewing the wounds, using his powers to move the needle.

He could hear the faint echoes of an underground stream, deeper into the cave. That noise, and Azazel's soft moans of pain, were the only company he had as he worked. His army was defeated, his kingdom in danger, and he was alone. He told himself that he could save Azazel, and then the army, and then the kingdom. He didn't know if he could.

He worked in the dark, the effort of keeping the metal glowing too great to maintain. It was better to let it drop, to let things rest for now. He could focus on this, calling up the light only when needed to check on a wound. The darkness meant he didn't see the slow way the blood was spreading across the ground, which helped him.

Eventually, the bleeding stopped, and Azazel was still breathing - shallowly, the air rattling in a way that concerned Erik. But he was still alive. Erik took off his cape, wrapping it around his friend's body and ignoring his own shivers. 

Erik wished he had some water with him, not wanting to leave Azazel alone. He fashioned a cup from some of the metal, sending it deeper into the cave to scoop the water and bring it back. He took a sip. 

The water tasted chalky and unpleasant, but it didn't sting his mouth, and he didn't think it was poisoned or tainted. It was fresh. He wondered if he'd come across some kind of underground spring, which was releasing water from deep within the earth. It wasn't ideal, but he'd rather Azazel drank something than went thirsty. He carefully positioned himself behind Azazel, guiding the other man so his head was propped against Erik's legs, then levitated the cup, pouring a few drops of water into Azazel's mouth, rubbing at his throat to make him swallow. After a few moments, Azazel did so, groaning, and Erik fed him a few more drops. 

"Stay with me," he pleaded, the words slipping into his old tongue. "Bitte, bleib bei mir." He shuddered, stroking Azazel's hair, knowing they both would be covered in the other man's blood, yet lacking the desire to clean himself. He could wait. He could sense the iron of it, and focused on the dried blood, trying to call the iron closer, to distract him from the wait in the dark, afraid and with no information from Emma.

He felt powerless.

If there was one thing Erik hated, more than anything in the world, it was feeling powerless. Too many people had taken power from his people, thought them little more than tools. He refused to be defeated by them. He just had to stay strong, to keep Azazel alive, and work out his next steps.

Waiting in the dark, he felt trapped, his skin crawling. He could hear the echo of footsteps he knew weren't there, heard the distant echo of voices of long dead men. But he had Azazel. He wasn't alone, and slowly the breaths and whimpers eased a little. Azazel didn't have a strong healing factor, but there was enough of the scraps of one to mean that if he could get through these first few hours, he would recover. 

Erik focused on that. He wasn't powerless. He could save Azazel, save his people. He would return home, to the safety of Genosha, where Charles was waiting and there was plenty. He'd end the nightmares for Erzengel, the same as he had ended them for himself. 

He reached forwards, taking Azazel's hand in his own. He squeezed tightly, and after a long few moments he felt Azazel's grip tighten in return. 

He felt a wave of relief crash through him at that moment, because that was a good sign. That was what he had needed, because it meant he wasn't alone. He rubbed his thumb against the back of Azazel's hand, feeling that grip holding him. 

He called the lights back up, the metal flexing and glowing warm, and he tried not to think about the sheer quantity of blood. What mattered that Azazel was still alive, still breathing, and as he watched eyes flickered open.

"I'll get you cleaned up," Erik promised, reaching out to send the cup to the water once more, then bringing it, warming the cup with one of the glowing pieces of metal, and using the warmed water to start rinsing the wounds. With no news from Emma, and no way of getting back to the battle, this at least gave him a purpose. As he did so, he sent out small pieces of metal, mapping the cave he found himself in while keeping Azazel calm beside him. He kept talking to Azazel.  
"I'm getting hungry, I wonder what Janos is eating for dinner. I'm sure he misses you. When you get better, you'll have some new scars to show off for him." He just kept up that constant chorus of words, keeping him distracted from his pain as his body tried to heal from its injuries.

Azazel wasn't a fool, Erik realised that. He was sure Azazel knew what Erik was doing, in his clumsy way - distracting both of them, giving them hope. But he grinned, teeth shining in the faint glow, and nodded sharply.  
"He likes my scars."

Erik couldn't stop a fond smile at that.  
"He likes you." He rolled his eyes, and tried to coax Azazel to drink a little more water, because drinking water would help him recover, because he'd lost so much blood. Azazel sipped as instructed, staying quiet, although his tail moved to press against Erik's leg. Erik allowed that, knowing it was a comfort for him.

"Of course he likes me," Azazel said after a few more moments of silence, pausing for breath before he continued. "I am irresistible."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Erik muttered, stroking his fingers through Azazel's hair, focusing on the sensation of the small metal fragments still exploring the cave. He could sense a way out - not easy, but manageable. That was a relief - he couldn't stand the thought of being trapped within the cliff face itself. 

"Janos," Azazel answered firmly. "Janos helps me sleep at night. He is warm in my arms, and he gives me the sweetest dreams." There was just a hint of a shake to his voice, the slightest implication that Azazel was worried because of the injury.

"I'll get you back to him," Erik promised. He had to promise that, had to manage it. He refused to be a failure, refused to die in a cave, afraid and so cold, and feeling Azazel's weight slumped against him. He gently tried to encourage him to take a few more sips of the water. Azazel did so, falling into silence.

"I'm sorry," Azazel whispered, his voice barely audible. "I shouldn't have taken you from the battle."

"It gives us time to regroup," Erik reassured him. He knew at the point Azazel had done it, he'd been too injured to think clearly. He'd just been acting on instinct, and Erik refused to be angry at him for that. He wouldn't have chosen to abandon his fight, but Azazel hadn't been thinking clearly, and he couldn't be mad at him for it. "We'll manage."

"I don't know who... At the moment I don't think I can search for survivors."

Erik nodded, shivering a little, trying to push down the fear that gnawed at him because Emma had been right every time she told him that kings didn't get to be afraid. They had to be in control, had to take care of the rest. Azazel needed him. Charles needed him. Genosha needed him. He couldn't afford to be a little boy that was still scared of the dark.

Azazel slowly sat up, hissing at the movement.  
"Did you see any sign of Kurt?"

"No. I'd told him he had to look after Psylocke. I can only assume he decided to do that. Hopefully he's headed home. That way the rest will have a warning, and he'll be safe."

"We can't let them get there." Azazel winced, the pain audible in his voice, and Erik nodded, the knowledge settling heavily over his heart.

"We won't. We will defend Genosha until our last breaths."

"Well, hopefully not that." Azazel laughed, and Erik smiled, glad the darkness wouldn't reveal it as he wrapped his arms around Azazel, pulling him into a tight embrace. Azazel's arms wrapped around him in return.

"Ready to stop lying around on the floor?" Erik teased.

"Not yet. I do not... I do not think I can stand, yet." Azazel's answer was quiet, and Erik nodded, letting Azazel lean on his shoulder, staying sat on the ground with him. Azazel laughed softly. "At least I have a handsome man to cuddle up to."

"I'll tell Janos."

"You do that and I'll tell Charles." Azazel laughed, resting his head on Erik's shoulder, and Erik rubbed his back fondly.

 _I do hope I'm not interrupting,_ Emma's voice cut through Erik's thoughts, as coldly amused as he'd ever known her, and it was a comfort to know that no matter what else happened, no matter what they lost, Emma was still the same.

 _Not at all,_ Erik thought back, thinking of Charles, missing his telepathy.

_You can mope about your husband later. I bring news._

_What has happened?_ Erik asked, immediately focusing, hope flickering that somehow it had worked out. Erik trusted his warriors. If anyone was capable of defeating En Sabah Nur, it was them.

 _We didn't win._ Emma was aiming for calm, but the mental link between them was too strong, and he could feel her mental voice shaking slightly. Emma was never on the losing side, not in things like this. She was too smart. She always worked both sides. Erik had never doubted for a second that if he'd failed in his coup, Emma would have stood at the king's side as he was executed, and moved even more into favour. It didn't upset him - that was just who Emma was, as much a part of her as her blonde hair or diamond skin. But it meant her sudden lack of certainty was a concern.

 _They captured us with minimal casualties, even minimal injury. They took us prisoner. His people are being controlled, some kind of telepathy resonating out from the structure,_ Emma explained, and he realised now that the connection was hurting him slightly, something aching in his head. As the moments spread out, the pain intensified, burning, until he almost cried out.

 _I know. I'm sorry. I can't keep up my own shields and speak to you. I'll get you your strongest warriors. Wait._ With that, the connection slammed shut with enough force to send him reeling, panting for air as he leaned against Azazel. A claw brushed his arm, careful, almost tender.  
"What happened?"

"Emma." Erik gasped, taking a few sips of water for himself as his mind raced, sharing the new information.

Azazel nodded, and Erik could feel him fiddling with his wedding ring as he talked.  
"He is trying to build weapons. Does not want to damage the tools he will use. So he will keep them alive."

"At least the useful ones," Erik agreed, his head still burning from the connection. Azazel nodded, and squeezed his hand.

"We brought our strongest to his trap. We cannot let him get those he will find less useful."

Erik nodded, taking a deep breath.  
"Emma said to wait. For now, I think that is all we can do." He didn't like the idea of waiting helplessly in the dark, but if Emma said she would get them assistance, he would trust her, and anyway Azazel needed time to regain his strength.

"We... I don't think I should sleep," Azazel admitted, leaning against Erik's shoulder. "Not right now."

"Not with the blood you've lost," Erik agreed. He didn't like the idea of exhausting himself by lack of sleep, but it was worth the cost if it would keep Azazel healthy and alive. "We wait for news from Emma."

"And then we attack?"

"Well, once you're stronger," Erik agreed, and it felt hopeless, they both knew that. But he had to stay positive. "Hopefully, Emma will get us some back up. And she's trying to block a telepath, so that's... I believe she can do that." He tried to reassure both of them, because that was all he could do for now. Every so often, he prompted Azazel to drink a little more water.

Azazel laughed softly.  
"You're worse than a mother hen."

Erik shook his head.  
"Just don't want to lose you, after everything," Erik said simply, reaching out to squeeze his hand again. "We can talk. You've got a captive audience. I have no choice but to listen while you rhapsodise about just how amazing Janos is."

Azazel nodded, his head resting against Erik's shoulder, and he began to talk. Erik let the words wash over him, still only too aware of the amount of blood on the floor, and how his friend must have been weakened by his injury. He hated it. But all the time Azazel was talking, he was alive. 

He tried to think through everything. He was sure there was a solution, one he was missing. He wished that Charles was here. Charles would have found the solution. Charles was so clever. Against him, Azazel was quietly rambling about his beautiful husband, and how much he loved him. Erik just let him talk.

Emma had said the structure was being used to control everyone, and that supported what Psylocke had said. They had to attack the structure, had to destroy it. He just didn't know how. He suspected that Charles would know. He tried to work out what Charles would have done.

Something metal pricked at his senses - something approaching. It took a moment, before he managed to place it. It was Logan getting closer. 

Erik stood up, reaching out with his ability, sinking it deep into Logan's skeleton, not holding him yet, but ready to do so if he posed any threat. If Logan wasn't himself, Erik could use the metal in his skeleton to control him, to keep the rest of them safe. He didn't like the idea, but Azazel wasn't strong enough to fight right now. 

"You know I can smell you in here?" Logan's voice called out, and Erik nodded, unsure if Logan could see him in the dark. He called up some metal, making it glow, and was rewarded by the sight of two individuals approaching. Logan, and Storm.

Storm bowed smartly.   
"Emma said we'd find you here."

"How do I know you're who you claim to be?" Erik asked, holding Logan back.

"You don't know," Storm replied, lightning glowing around her hands. "But I can light this place up better than you." There was a pause, and she hissed. "He's hurt."

"Yeah. Can you help move him?" Erik asked, glad to release his hold on the metal and let Storm light things up.

"Such fuss," Azazel muttered.

"You stink of blood," Logan answered, scooping Azazel up in his arms. "There's a wider cave further up. We’ll have more light there."

Erik nodded, trying to check both of his friends for any sign of injury. He knew Logan would recover, but he wanted to check that Storm was unhurt as well.

"I'm fine, Erik," she promised him. "Emma said to us she can stay back. She'll be there when we need her."

Erik nodded, almost flinching when they turned around the corner and was faced with what seemed like blinding light after the darkness. This cave was brighter, and larger, and there was sunlight - only a small patch of it on the floor, but it was still brilliant after the darkness of the previous shelter.  
"How were the others?"

"They... the power he holds..." Storm shivered. "I couldn't think clearly. I didn't... Emma said that there was a telepath. That seems likely."

"I kept shaking it off," Logan muttered. "But it wasn't sticking. He kept coming back. I can feel Emma there now - she's shielded both of us."

"The four of us," Erik pointed out, gesturing to himself and Azazel.

"Sechs," came a soft voice, and Erik turned as Kurt teleported into his arms, wrapping around him, his tail clutching Erik's arm as he shook and trembled, whimpering slightly. "Sechs von uns. Sie sagte, Ihr würdet hier sein." He took a deep breath, repeating himself in stumbling Genoshan. "She said. You are here."

"We are," Erik agreed, stroking his fingers through Kurt's hair, feeling him shivering. "Three of my generals, you, and..." He looked over, seeing Psylocke was sat on a rock outcrop, her arms wrapped around herself. Erik beckoned her closer, and after a moment she approached.

"Are you injured?"

"No, sire," she said softly. "I... I am sorry, I didn't know..."

"It wasn't your fault," Erik said firmly. He trusted Emma would have said if it was a trap. En Sabah Nur probably knew he had telepaths. This would only work if she didn't know it was a trap. That was evidence she hadn't known what was happening.

 _Erik,_ Emma's voice in his head sounded like she was afraid, a pain there that Erik had never heard from her - because weakness wasn't who Emma was. _I'm sorry._ The pain in his head was already starting to build, but she still hesitated rather than blurting out whatever it was she wanted to say. That was a concern in itself. Emma was trying to work out how to say it. She always knew what she was saying, and if talking would avoid pain she'd do it. Only now there was silence.

 _Erik, they've been working with Westchester._ There was a pause, and the pain kept building, before she spoke. _Westchester's army attacked Genosha._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update will be on Monday. Comments and Kudos always appreciated.


	7. Plan

Charles bowed in his chair, knowing the other Genoshans would copy him, lowering their heads.

"Charles," Kurt Marko said, stepping forwards, looking at Charles curiously. "I wasn't expecting to see you again, and using such a strange contraption...I do hope you didn't suffer another fall."

"No, sire," Charles answered, sitting up a little straighter, trying to remind himself that he wasn't just the usurped heir of Westchester. He was the king of Genosha, in his own right, just as much as Erik was. 

Marko's eyes scanned the crowd, settling on Alex for a moment.  
"Didn't that one have a brother?"

Alex tensed, and Charles longed for telepathy to hold him in place. Darwin grabbed Alex’s hand, and that worked.  
"Scott couldn't see. There was no point in..." Charles began, fading off, leaving Marko to draw his own conclusions. He knew Marko wasn't as naive as his son, but Charles had years of practice of controlling both of them, of working to curb the worst excesses of their behaviour. Marko laughed.

"And yet they kept you?"

"I was potentially... useful. And the other Westchesterians were loyal to me."

"Then they were fools," Marko said simply, stepping forwards. "You were only a burden, Charles. You have been a burden for a long time."

Charles sighed, biting down his initial response. Too long with Erik had meant he had started to take on the other man's fiery temper, and losing control wouldn't help anyone right now. 

"Perhaps, but they are loyal fools." Charles looked up at him. "As long as you have me, they won't fight you."

"My boy, do you really think that a king's ...companion... could engender such loyalty?" Marko shook his head. "Even he isn't loyal. He didn't take you on campaign." 

"I'm hardly suited for war," Charles answered, hands clenched to fists, thinking curses at the other man, longing for his ability and the way it would help him. He took a deep breath, reminding himself he was starting to put plans in place, and he had to follow them through. "But there's been a mistake. Little Jimmy here, he's... he's a human."

Marko stepped forwards, looking at the pale boy, curious, and then smirked.  
"I doubt it. Even if he is, he's better off collared for now, and later on we can always free him, once Lord Trask arrives. He says that he has developed potions that will identify mutants from a few drops of blood. We'll be able to purge our land of your kind, Charles. Won't that be a beautiful day."

Charles looked away, not answering, as Kurt Marko barked out orders, ensuring most of the prisoners were taken to the cells for now. Charles gestured for Janos to help him, and Janos started to move him away.

"Where are you going, Charles?" Marko asked. He signalled for Janos to stop, turning around towards the Markos, his pulse racing.

"I was going to the cells, like you said."

"Now, Charles, you know that you are far too valuable for there. You're a smart boy, I'm sure you overheard all kinds of things about Genosha's forces that would be helpful for us." Marko smirked. "You stay here, and you're going to tell me what you know."

Charles nodded, looking up at Janos, expecting him to leave. Janos reached out and squeezed his hand, and Charles nodded.  
"Can Janos stay? I don't want one of the guards to have to carry me again."

"Fine. He might help you remember what you've seen," Marko answered and Charles nodded, not letting himself think through the threat in those words. He believed he could do this. Tell Marko what he wanted to hear without putting Genosha in danger. Keep track of his lies. He wished he had his ability, called out in case there were any telepaths listening, was met with silence. 

"I wanted to return home." Charles lowered his gaze. "That was all that I could think about, during the journey. That I wanted to... I wanted to go home." This journey, but if Marko knew what he meant, he didn't say.

"Cain, go and fetch your stepmother, I'm sure she'll be happy to have her son home."

Cain swaggered away, and Marko leaned in.  
"Cain told me how you're trying to protect all your little freaks. It's not going to work. We're going to keep them alive, and then hand them over to Lord Trask to cut them up and find out how they work. Maybe keep a few, those worth holding on to. Cain says you keep making excuses for them."

"I merely told him that one was ill. He is. You could have your healers examine him."

Marko stared at Charles, and Charles kept his gaze down, playing at meek and helpless. When he spoke, it was little more than a whisper.  
"As you so wish, sire. I want only to serve Westchester." He tried again, calling out for any telepaths, but no answer came. They were alone, at least for now, and that meant he had to work out their next moves.

Before Genosha, before Erik, Charles had felt hopeless. He'd sat in court, feeling like little more than decoration, watching as Marko made decisions that he would have never made, and knowing that his opinions and beliefs didn't matter, not with his condition, not with these men in charge. He hadn't even cared enough for the other mutants - when he'd been given responsibility for them on the journey to Genosha he had helped them. But while he'd been in the castle, he'd been too lost in his own imprisonment to do all he could have done.

That ended now. He wasn't the man that Erik had rescued, not any more. He was stronger, more certain. He knew he wasn't alone, that he could be loved, and that no matter what was coming, he would find a way to help his people through it. He took a few more deep breaths, gazing at the floor, acting as broken as he had been the last time he'd been in these halls.

"Good," Marko answered, keeping some distance away. He didn't like mutants, had ordered their imprisonment, and apparently this dislike extended to Charles. Charles carefully tucked that piece of information away for further use, sure he'd find a way to make it work for him. "You can have your own room back. Cain told me this man is your assistant."

"He is." Charles looked away from Janos as he spoke, but tried to spell out a phrase in Genoshan with his fingers. To Marko he said "He can't speak or understand what is said. But he's able to push my chair so that when my back pains me I don't have to walk, and..." Charles shrugged, looking back at the floor. "He helped me. I care about him." He knew saying that would put Janos at risk, but he needed his support, and worried that leaving him with the rest might lead to him getting killed if he didn't respond correctly.

To Janos, he quickly spelled out a message. "Told him you don't understand."

Janos's hand tightened slightly on Charles's shoulder, a silent agreement that he understood.

Marko grinned, looking at Janos, and nodding.   
"Well, it's good to know you weren't entirely on your own while this was going on. I do hope he wasn't too rough with you, I know you're fragile." 

Charles made himself smile innocently, even though he knew that fragile was just another way of Marko insulting him.  
"Thank you for your concern. It could have been worse," Charles said carefully, trying not to let himself think of Erik. He wanted Erik to come here and rescue him, but he knew that wasn't going to happen right now. Because what had happened to Erzengel, what was happening with En Sabah Nur and Trask, was important. 

But if Trask was working with Westchester, then this had all been a trap from the start. Lure away the strongest, and then attack. Erik wouldn't think clearly if he knew that they'd been taken, would make mistakes in fighting. The kind of thing that would be dangerous for him. 

If those people knew that, it would be an obvious idea to help them win. Separate them, take the weakest, and use the fact you had prisoners to defeat Genosha. Charles had no doubt in his mind that if Erik knew they were threatened, he would do anything to keep the Genoshan children safe. Which was generally reassuring, but right at this moment, meant they were all at risk, because everything was following Trask's plan. 

If there was a way to identify their kind, to pull out those who remained in the shadows, then it wouldn't be a war that was coming. It would be an extermination. Without Erik, without those who had long learned how to fight, Charles would have to stop it. Mentally, he called out to Emma, to Jean, to anyone who might be listening. And no response came.

There was a soft gasp from the doorway, and then his mother swept inside. She was a little unsteady on her feet, leaning her hand on Cain's arm, but her face lit up slightly when she saw Charles, walking to him, embracing him and pressing a kiss to his forehead. He looked up at her, smelling the wine on her breath, and wondered if she would ever understand how he was feeling at this moment. If she'd ever been parted from someone she loved. If she'd ever loved. He pushed back his emotions.

"Mother. It is good to see you."

"And you..." There was a pause, before she nodded. "Charles. Yes, Charles."

"It is, thank you mother," Charles answered, pushing down his fear and pain. "How are you?"

"Quite alright," she told him, before showing him a beautiful bracelet. "Your father gave me this. It's lovely, isn't it?"

"Yes, mother," Charles answered, resisting the need to point out that Marko was his step-father. He needed to pick his battles, and arguing with his mother was always a pointless endeavour, as she would only forget.

"Why are you in that chair? It looks ugly."

"My injury was causing me pain. This lets me move faster, and without it hurting," Charles explained, watching the frown crossing her face. He cleared his throat. "I'll only use it out of sight of course."

"Good," she said quickly, pulling back a little. "Well, I'm glad you're home. I am sure you've got a lot to do." With that, she turned and walked away, and Charles concentrated on keeping breathing. Janos's fingers were brushing over his shoulder, silently grounding, and he tilted his head to lean back against that hand, to thank him silently in the place of the mental embrace he would normally offer.

"There," Marko smiled. "Your mother knows you are well, and she's been worried. She's asked after you when she remembers you exist."

"Not often then." Charles snapped, because apparently Erik had been a bad influence on his courtly behaviour.

Marko laughed, reaching out and ruffling his hair.   
"You finally found your fire then, boy. All those years sat helplessly, and at least I now know you have a mind."

Charles didn't point out that he'd often been the one to work out things, to make plans and try to protect the kingdom, because none of that fitted with the story Marko was interested in telling, and right now what Marko wanted he would get. Charles would smile and simper and pretend he was grateful, if that was what it took, and he would get them home.  
"You were saying I could be helpful?"

"What do you know of Genosha's warriors?" Marko asked, beckoning for Janos to take Charles with him to a side room. Cain followed, smirking.

"I mean, he clearly knows some things about them." Cain leered at him, and Charles crossed his arms and looked away, focusing on breathing. At least he was fairly sure that Janos was too tall to draw his step-brother's attentions.

"Ideally things that would be useful for those facing them in the battlefield, not the bedroom." Marko looked at Charles as though he was filth, and Charles shifted, pressing his hand down against the wedding ring he'd hidden in his pocket, reminding himself that this was temporary. This was just something he needed to endure, so that he could keep his people safe, so that he could find a way to get home.

"I know that they're all mutants. He has a teleporter and a telepath he is close to. But... there are most kinds of mutations in his ranks. When he himself can control metal... our weapons are worthless. No wonder your troops failed so spectacularly when you fought them. You stood no chance against mutants with the full extent of their abilities."

Charles was already bracing himself to be hit, but still flinched as his face was slapped, fighting down the urge to smirk. Because if Marko was busy trying to beat up him, he wasn't thinking about the rest. If his attention was on Charles, he wasn't thinking about the other mutants in the cells. He concentrated on what he actually needed to know.  
"You said Trask...can detect them?"

"He can. We're going to wipe them out."

Charles thought it through, and realised that with no other mutants, any nation that did hold them would be impossible to defeat. To wipe out the mutant populations of other lands, while holding onto your own, would make a nation stronger than any other. He considered, and decided that telling Marko might work. If he doubted his new alliances, it might at least ensure he didn't hand over those mutants he had to Trask's forces. 

"He's going to wipe out everyone other than his own army," Charles told him, as clearly as he could. "That way he gets you weakened. It makes his troops unstoppable. He'll have mutants at his command and no one else will, and you won't win against him."

Marko glared, but Charles thought he could see a hint of uncertainty there.  
"Go to your room, Charles. I'll have someone fetch you in time for dinner."

"Thank you," Charles smiled politely.

"Try and think of something worthwhile to tell us by the meal, if you can." Marko turned away, and a guard stepped forwards to escort him to his room. Janos luckily followed after only a moment's hesitation, and the two of them were back in his old bedroom. It was still the same, the few books he owned untouched and covered with a thin layer of dust. The clothes he had been denied when he went to Genosha waited in their wooden chests, and he felt a strange relief at being home, overlaid with the knowledge that this was not, and had never been, his home.

Marko had sent him away with nothing but the clothing on his back, an utter abandonment of Charles when Westchester would have been his if not for his ‘fall’ and his mother's remarriage. It had been a clear message of how little Marko valued Charles, preventing him from taking anything that might provide comfort. He saw no comfort here now.

As the door locked behind them, Janos reached out, and Charles stumbled awkwardly to his feet, leaning with his head on Janos's shoulder, trembling a little. He closed his eyes, pressing his face against Janos's neck, and Janos's hands ran down his shoulders. After a few moments, he pulled away, stumbling through signing an apology.

Janos shook his head, and then carefully spelled out the next question.  
"Is he always like that?"

Charles laughed and shook his head, shaping the letter K in both hands and moving them across his chest as he carefully spoke his answer.  
"No, normally he's worse."

Janos responded by pulling a face, and then carefully spelling his response.  
"You aren't alone."

"I know," Charles replied, repeating the gesture after a moment. "I know." He went to sit on his bed, gesturing for Janos to sit beside him, and beginning to explain what had happened. It was slow going - although he'd learned a few signs he was far from fluent, and having to mentally switch from a conversation in Westchestarian to one in Genoshan was exhausting. Still, he carefully explained what he knew to Janos, so that if something were to happen to him, the knowledge he'd gained wouldn't be entirely lost.

Janos sat with him, focused, occasionally asking for clarification. Charles was concentrating, and when there was a sudden giggle he jumped. Beside him, Janos got to his feet, his hands reaching up to his face as he looked around the room, eyes wide in confusion.

Charles looked as well. In the doorway, stood the girl he'd seen when he'd first arrived, still in a white dress. She waved, and stepped forwards.

Charles put his hand on Janos's arm, guiding him to sit down. The girl was definitely a mutant then - some kind of telepath, if she'd made a sound that Janos could register. He beckoned her closer. She was just a child - he couldn't believe that this was the weapon that had been used. He gazed at her, struck by her delicate features and wide eyes, one blue and one green.   
"Hello," he addressed her carefully in Westchesterian, signalling to Janos that the girl was a telepath. Janos relaxed a little, but there was still a look of discomfort on his face as he sat beside Charles.

"Are you a telepath?" Charles asked her. 

She shook her head, and Charles wondered if she knew the name.

"Oh. I am, but I can't use it at the moment. My name is Charles, and this is my friend Janos, he can't hear you."

"Hello," she said to Charles, before waving at Janos. Still frowning, Janos waved back at her.

"What's your name?" Charles asked, as gently as he could.

"Jas-" her voice caught slightly in her throat. "Jasmine."

"Well, hello Jasmine." Charles reached out, but he couldn't quite bring himself to touch her, something catching in his mind. He supposed she was probably using her power to hold him back. "It's good to meet you."

She looked at him nervously, swaying on her feet, fingers twisting in her dress.  
"They took you from your home?"

"They did," Charles agreed. "I live somewhere mutants can be happy. Somewhere we're safe. Genosha. And we need to get back to it."

"All...all mutants?"

"All mutants." Charles smiled fondly at her. "We've got a few telepaths already. You'd be welcome to come if you wanted, when we go." He knew it was foolish, revealing his plans, but he felt compelled to tell her. He was aware that was probably a sign of her mutation, but that didn't mean he could resist it with his own telepathy cut off.

"I could really go with you?" Jasmine asked, her eyes lighting up hopefully, spinning in a little circle where she stood.

"You can, I promise," Charles told her. "We'd be happy to have you."

She giggled again, a soft sound, and clapped her hands together, blue butterflies flicking up from her body and filling the air.

Charles stared for a moment.  
"You're really not a telepath?"

"I make illusions,” she told him. "I'm in my room, but I was bored, so...I thought I'd come and see you."

Charles nodded thoughtfully.  
"Do you think you could go to the cells, and tell the mutants there that I have a plan?"

She nodded.  
"Do you have a plan?"

Charles shook his head, a faint smile on his lips.  
"Not yet. But I will do, soon."

She smiled, and spun in a circle once more, before she disappeared from sight.

Janos's hand squeezed Charles's own.


	8. Prepare

Erik glanced at the fragile party of warriors he had left. With most of Genosha's fighters captured, he only had five people on his side. Azazel, still recovering from the claw wounds he had received in the fight, Storm and Logan, newly freed from the opposing telepath's grasp, and Kurt and Psylocke who had escaped before the battle. He trusted his generals, but this was nowhere near enough to survive and to win, the way that they would have to.

Emma's telepathic message seemed to reverberate around the cave, getting louder and louder in his mind as he tried to stay calm and keep breathing through it all. Westchester had attacked Genosha. He had left Charles with a handful of fighters, and the children, those too young or too old to fight, and marched off into this trap. Charles had been defenceless. He shivered, thinking of the man he had first seen, when they had arrived in Westchester triumphant.

Charles had been collared, subdued. He had looked afraid, and there had been no sign in his eyes, then, of the man that Erik would love. He had looked beautiful, but Erik had forbidden himself from seeing that beauty, focusing instead on the look of pain on his face, the way he had cringed and ducked his head when Westchester's King had called him a cripple. The way he'd led out a broken party of mutants, underweight and injured, cut off from their powers. Charles had been their leader, been stronger than he'd known, choosing to walk with them despite the pain. Telling the children it would be an adventure, and teaching them what language he could, teaching them to thank people, to ask for clarification. 

The Charles Erik had first met, he never could have loved. Not the way he loved his Charles. He was a man broken, a man hurting. He hadn't been ready to rule. Charles didn't talk about his life before Genosha much, and that was something Erik could respect, given his own scars. But there was no doubt in his mind that Charles had blossomed since he had set foot in Erik's land. And now he would return to the place that had broken him so badly.

Azazel's hand squeezed his own, and Erik could see the pain there. Charles wasn't alone - Azazel's adopted son might have been in the cave, but his husband had been in Genosha.

He tried to reach out for Emma's mind, to ask for more information, but he felt only emptiness.

"He be alright." Azazel said firmly. "He did not die when there before. That is sign in his favour."

"He might die now," Erik murmured, knowing he was showing doubt, being weak the way Emma always warned him against, and yet unable to help himself. "He.. We shouldn't have left-"

Azazel's grip tightened, and he found those striking blue eyes staring into his own.  
"You are being a fool. Charles survive there for a long time. He is a clever man. He get you to do what he want, yes?" 

"Yes."

"Then do not give up on him. You trust him to rule Genosha? You trust him to keep your people safe?"

Erik nodded, and Azazel leaned in, so that their foreheads were brushing.  
"Well then. Trust him. Give him trust he deserves. He would trust for you, and he far smarter than you will ever be."

"Thank you for that, Azazel." Erik muttered, but he felt his heart rate slowing a little, his breathing becoming more even.

"He's right, you know." Logan murmured from where he was standing towards the front of the cave, sniffing at the air.

"About me being an overprotective fool, or-"

"Well, that Charles will manage, and right now we need you to remain calm." Logan shrugged. "Whatever's happening out there-"

"They want to upset us." Storm said quietly. "Whether he used Emma to pass on that message, or let her know so she would tell us - They are trying to harm our focus. We need to stop En Sabah Nur's forces. We defeated Westchester's army. Charles may well do the same."

Erik took a couple of slow breaths, staring at the metal around his arms, thinking of the fragments he had peeled from it to make Charles's wedding ring. The man he had first met had been afraid of Westchester, but Charles no longer was. He had to trust him.

"Storm, Logan, I need to know everything you can tell me about what happened after Azazel and I left the battlefield."

Erik listened carefully to what they had to say, because he needed to believe that there was an answer. Something that he had missed, which he could use to keep his people safe.

It was Storm who spoke most, sharing her story, Logan butting in only occasionally when he wanted to clarify points.  
"When you left the battlefield, En Sabah Nur turned to the rest of us. I thought... I'd been watching your fight, and he'd seemed distracted, struggling to adapt to your attacks. You were the focus."

Psylocke cleared her throat, leaning against Kurt, the youth holding her hand to reassure her.  
"He wants you for one of his horsemen. His chosen four. Like your generals." A frown passed across her face, and she continued to talk. "Not like your generals. Your generals make their own choices - he does not want that. His chosen ones are... not to question him. Not to think. Simply to serve him."

Erik nodded, careful to keep his face calm even if it sickened him a little. Storm resumed her story  
"With you gone, they overwhelmed us. I don't know - I think for a few moments my attention slipped, as I crashed down through the air."

"Got the kind of headache I get when Emma tries to make me do something I don't wanna," Logan contributed to the conversation. "That kinda... not being quite right, and..." Logan shrugged. "We dropped. Like flies, there wasn't... it was like the fight was gone, and they could round us up."

Storm nodded in agreement, and frowned. "I am sorry. We should have fought harder, we should not have let-"

"You didn't let it." Erik said, reaching out to place his hand on her arm, feeling the burn of lightning beneath her skin. "It is clear they were using powers beyond our comprehension. So, they capture you, and then-"

"We ended up in the structure. It was lined with metal, and... the air inside it seemed to hum with energy, or glow with... with a power I had not seen before. And he was talking, calling us his children, welcoming us home..." She shivered, a frisson of fear running down her spine. "And it felt... good. Like we were home. Stray children gathered from the fields as darkness fell. We didn't need to be afraid, not any more. At that moment, all... all I could think of was him. Of serving him, bringing him victory. It was lessened, when we were outside of the structure, but within it - all I could sense was his presence. He stood before us, smiling, and then he... he reached out. He chose figures from the crowd. And pulled them forwards. He chose Simon, pulled him forwards, asked him to show us what he could do. And Simon conjured up a flame - " she gestured with her hands, demonstrating the small fires that were often created by Simon. "And then En Sabah Nur asked him to kneel, looked down at him and... I don't know. It felt..." 

Storm's words failed her, and she shook her head. "Flames burst from him, across all of him, soaring higher than he could ever do before... And Simon went to stand by his throne. He was looking through the crowds, searching for something. And then..." she hesitated, and ducked her head. "I don't know. I wasn't thinking straight, wasn't... he pulled me forwards, and as soon as he touched me, I couldn't tell you my own name. The lightning was so strong." She stretched out her hands, and flickers of lightning danced along them. "He made me into his warrior and as he looked into my eyes... there was nothing. Emptiness. I didn't... if Emma hadn't called out to me, I don't think I would have come back." She shuddered, and Erik nodded, gazing at her. "And it was fast?"

"As soon as he got near me the world faded away... If he'd asked me to kill Angel I would have." She trembled, and it was Psylocke that pulled her into an embrace. 

"It wasn't your fault." Psylocke told her. "He has that effect... I thought... I thought I had broken free, but now that I see he wanted you all, it feels I was merely permitted a longer leash." She shivered. "I don't want to go back to him."

"I vill make sure you are safe." Kurt promised, carefully sounding out each of the words. And Storm was explaining about Emma's brush in her mind, the way she'd coaxed her back to reality, but Erik was no longer really paying the attention he should be, as parts of her story fitted into place.

He wished that Charles was here. Charles would have found a solution that wasn't the one that was staring him in the face. Charles would have realised long before this point, found a different plan. But right now Charles was fighting his own battles, and Erik had to work with what was to hand, even if that material was himself.

The structure was laced with metal. On the battlefields, Erik had encountered metal swords and shields, and in peace there was the lattice of spikes, the metal wall he used to help encircle the Genoshan camp. But never had he had to face metal on that scale before. Destroying a blade was the work of a thought, but the encampment had taken time, days with periods of rest as he recovered from the sheer exhaustion of the work.

"The structure is the centre of his power?" Erik asked, hoping that his voice didn't sound as hesitant out loud as it did in his mind. He reached out for Emma, and found only silence.

Storm nodded.

"Then I suggest we give him what he wants." Erik pronounced, head high, projecting all the confidence that he could. "If he wants me, let him have me. And Emma can get into my head, and use my powers-"

"That worked real well last time." Logan grunted, gesturing to the misshapen lump on his finger, where Emma had tried to use Erik's powers to force metal beneath Logan's skin at the old king's command.

"We were children." Erik would not have Emma blamed for something that she had merely been a tool for. "She has grown in her power since then."

"Tear it apart now?" Logan suggested. "You made the fence-"

"I made the fence over days. If we're going to bring him down, we don't have days. We don't even have hours."

 _I'll do what I can._ Emma's voice sounded in his mind, and he knew at that moment she'd come to the same conclusion that he had. That these actions were inevitable. That their only chance of defeating their enemy lay in handing over one of their leaders. He wondered how soon she'd realised, and how long she had kept quiet, doing him the honour of allowing him to work out the situation for himself.

"Emma says she will help." Erik explained. "This is our best shot." The thought of surrender, of kneeling before a man that wasn't Charles, of debasing himself, allowing someone to touch him made his blood turn to fire in his veins. 

But he looked around, at the men and women who were with him. Looking in his generals' eyes, he could see they'd followed his thoughts, reached the same conclusion he had. There wasn't an alternative plan. But none of them would voice this. 

If he chose to stay silent they'd find another option, waste precious moments that they didn't have in trying to keep him safe at the cost of his people. He couldn't let that happen. Slowly, carefully, he nodded, meeting each set of eyes in turn.

"You sure about this?" Logan asked, and Erik was fairly sure he wasn't imagining the concern there.

"Yes." Erik squared his shoulders, then turned towards his red-skinned friend, still recovering from his injury. At the moment, there would be no teleporters coming to help. If Emma couldn't free his mind, he would be lost.  
"Azazel. If it doesn't work... you'll tell Charles?" 

He expected a joke from his friend, perhaps a promise that Charles would be well taken care of, accompanied by laughter and raised eyebrows. What he got instead was a nod, the man's tail twitching slightly, before he squeezed his shoulder.   
"I'll tell him. But he know."

"Thank you." Erik hesitated, calling up a few more scraps of metal from his vambraces, and shaping them into another ring. "If I don't.... Give this to Charles." He pressed a kiss to the cold metal, and then handed it to Azazel, who nodded.

"Protect my people." He told them, pulling Kurt into an embrace, then embracing each of his generals. He took a deep breath, and squared his shoulders, stepping out into the light.


	9. Diplomat

Charles couldn't quite comprehend how very much he missed his powers. Before Erik, before Genosha, he had managed without them for five years. He'd learned to read other signals, to monitor people's expressions and tone and body language, always on the look out for potential danger. He'd learned to keep an eye, at all times, and protect himself - and now he felt like he'd lost that skill. 

It had been so easy, in Genosha. Able to help the children when they were struggling, able to sense their unasked questions, able to find people who were afraid and calm them. To feel Erik's love, a certainty that warmed him even as they went about their days, their minds always threaded together, a comfort that those who weren't telepathic could not begin to understand.

Now, there was silence, and coldness, and the echo of distant voices.

Janos's hand squeezed his once more, and then he signalled for Charles to rest.  
"You keep watch," Charles explained, as slowly and carefully as he could, stumbling over some of his words. "If you aren't taken to dinner, I'll bring back what I can."

Janos nodded, smiling sadly, and leaning forwards to kiss Charles's forehead. Charles took a deep breath, and made himself smile. Because he was afraid - but as far as he was aware, there weren't other telepaths - at least not in those that had been taken from Genosha. Westchester might have used one to catch them at first, but he didn't care so much for them - what he cared about was his people. And they were here. He wasn't back to being alone, back to hiding in empty rooms or stumbling down corridors, scarce able to remain on his feet.

He had his people here. In the cells, for now, until Marko sold them off. But he had others in play as well. He visualised them, spread out before him like a chess board, and he thought of the ring and the pawn that he had brought. 

There was Erzengel, afraid and lost. Charles had to prioritise protecting him - but for now he was being cared for by Hank, and by Raven - and Raven's presence wasn't known about. Then there was Jasmine, and he was sure he could make use of her powers to help them escape, and there was Janos, a solid presence beside him. 

Charles felt like he was trapped in an old nightmare, but things had changed. He wasn't alone this time. He lay down on the bed, knowing Janos was beside him. He let his eyes close, feeling Janos move so that he was sat close by, and reached for his hand. Janos let him sleep, holding his hand. It wasn't long until dinner, but he made himself get the rest that he could.

He was woken by Janos shaking him, and looked up to see a couple of the guards staring down at him. He stretched, deciding he would need to play up his injury as much as possible, trying to ensure they saw him as weak and helpless. He stumbled to his feet, glancing at his chair.

"The king wants your presence. Now." The head guard told him, then turned and walked away. Charles had no option but to walk after him, breathless with pain by the time they reached the dining hall - even when he had walked on the journey to Genosha, the pace had been slower, enabling him to avoid the worst of his pain. But his own wants, his own safety, mattered very little now. He sighed to himself, trying to remember that if anything the injury and his discomfort worked in his favour.

His mother hadn't joined them at dinner. That wasn't unusual. His step-brother ignored him, which was also normal. But Marko gestured for Charles to come and sit in the chair beside him. Charles made his way over, ducking his head, wishing for his telepathy. Without it, he had no certainty in his heart that the others weren't dead. If he'd been able to feel their minds it would have been a comfort, but without that he was left afraid.

"Charles, so good of you to join us." Marko reached out, squeezing Charles's shoulder a little too tight. 

Charles answered politely, biting down a grimace.  
"Thank you for inviting me."

"I hope you don't mind we didn't bring your little... companion. Only he's not really appropriate company in polite society, is he?"

"Thank you for letting him stay with me," Charles answered.

"At least you shouldn't have to worry about that barbarian any more. Trask's forces should have wiped them out by now," Marko said, and Charles knew he was being watched, for any sign of lies or conspiracy. 

He made himself smile, simpering gratefully.  
"I am glad you sent Cain to collect us... I had worried we had fallen from your grace entirely."

"Not you Charles. You know your mother is almost fond of you, and you are still an heir... despite your...failings."

"I am honoured to be counted," Charles demured, falling into saying the right things by rote - but the words tasted different on his tongue. Before, if he'd played this role it had been from fear or because he hadn't known better. But this time, he was determined. Cut off from his powers, and not knowing if Erik was alive or dead, he felt more determined than he had ever been. 

If all that was left of Genosha was frightened children and a handful of defenders, it would rise again. Charles had been beaten down by his family for long enough. Erik had given him hope, and he would give the same to his people.

He picked up a roll from the basket, using a knife to cut into it and then hiding some meat inside before placing it into a pocket, hands working under the table. It was an old trick, one he'd done countless times when he'd feared being locked in his room with no hope of escape. But how, he was doing it with a purpose. He would not let any of his people go hungry, not if he could avoid it.

Marko smirked at him, oblivious, as Cain snorted into his wine.  
"Surprised you aren't missing him."

"I had worried you might have had feelings for that man. Been excited that someone found your broken body desirable," Marko laughed, and Charles took another steadying breath. He'd survived this before, he could survive it again. Marko sought to humiliate him, or trap him into making a mistake. He would not give him the satisfaction.

"I thought only of returning home."

Charles had barely thought of Westchester since he left. Now, he wondered if that was a failing - if he should have kept it in mind, so that he would be able to prepare for what had come. But they had tricked them, hidden their army, and struck in a way he couldn't have expected.

Even if he should have foreseen what had happened, he couldn't permit his thoughts to linger on that now. What was important was to focus on what he could do now. Potential mistakes could be picked over when they were safe once more.

If he could get his powers back, he would have a chance. But he doubted that he could get the key to his collar easily. He was trapped, and watched closely. Even now, he was aware of the guards' eyes upon him. He smiled placidly, taking a mouthful of stew, finding he missed the variety of food he had at home. He couldn't think of that too much - crying into his dinner would hardly work out well for him, and could keep him distracted.

He ducked his head, and tried to fade into the background. If he had had his ability, then perhaps he would have been able to conceal himself from view, but without it he was relying on Marko not considering Charles worth his time. It was a technique that had served him well for much of his life.

The conversation moved on. Marko let Cain boast of how he had captured the prisoners, and Charles forced himself not to point out he had gathered up a collection of those who had been left behind - and those mostly children, by concealing himself. It was hardly the heroic victory Cain was making it out to be. Cain laughed and leered, and Charles kept quiet, letting the insults wash over him. All the time Cain was trying to hurt him with his words, he wasn't lashing out with his fists.

He missed his ability, his heart stinging with the knowledge that with it, he could get out of there. Until then, he was trapped. Raven perhaps would be able to help. He let himself think through his options for a short while, sure he could find a solution that would work with minimal losses. 

"Trask's men should be arriving in three days-" Marko said to Cain, and Cain snorted slightly.

"We don't have to hand all of them over, do we?" Cain protested. 

"You shouldn't hand any of them over," Charles snapped quickly, forcing down his anger and fear because he understood Trask's game. Trask wanted the mutants to use to craft as weapons, or to slaughter, to ensure his own superiority. Mutants within Westchester might have been treated as little more than animals, trapped within the cells, but they were alive.

"You don't trust Trask?" Marko asked, his attention returning to Charles. "It's not like you to interrupt."

"This is important," Charles said firmly. "I don't want Westchester to fall again. I know what happened when we were defeated by Genosha."

"I doubt Trask wants you for his bed, Charles." Cain sneered. "I think he has more taste than that."

Charles shook his head. "Not that. I know we suffered heavy losses. Families without their father or mother because when it comes to facing a mutant army... humans alone cannot win. If we keep the ones we have, some of them may prove..." he hesitated. "One of the men you've captured could destroy buildings with his power. He'd be easy enough to control. Let me talk to him, let me remind him we have-" Charles paused, diverting from one track and moving to another. "We have his loyalty. He was born in Westchester. Now, we can either use him with us, or we hand him to Trask and let him use the mutant against us."

"Or we kill him now," Cain pointed out. "We could destroy them ourselves-"

"Cain, quiet," Marko snapped, turning an evaluative eye towards Charles. "You really are sure about this, aren't you?"

"Utterly. I don't see why else he would want them." Charles explained, hoping he had at least earned a degree of trust from the man he despised. Marko looked at him, and Charles shrugged, as casually as he could. "I don't want to be handed over and made into a weapon, or remain here and see mutants used to invade. This is for my own sake as much as yours, and ... we may not have always seen eye to eye, but you know I have never wanted to leave or see Westchester destroyed."

Slowly, Marko nodded.  
"In three days I will speak to Trask and his men, but for now I will say I have no plan to hand over those that make the most dangerous of weapons. I will need you to select those-" at a huff from his son, Marko rolled his eyes. "You can choose some to remain as well, if you must."

Charles stayed quiet. Three days. That was the timescale he was working with. Once Trask's men arrived, any attempt at escape would become far more difficult.   
"I would like to see the other mutants tomorrow. There are a few that I became close to. And..." Charles's eyes widened slightly, as he thought of the painkiller he had been given, the one that Hank had created. If he could use that to help ease the discomfort he was in, then he suspected he might be able to make some progress. "The winged man, I can't remember his name, but I know he's been sick. I was sitting with him at points to let the doctor rest. Perhaps I could-"

"He'd better not die. It's not...I wouldn't get sick, would I?" Cain asked, and for once Charles was thankful for his step-brother's idiocy and priorities, because he could work with them. He knew how to make use of it. But he couldn't risk Erzengel's life.

"It's not contagious. He just was injured, and needs time to recover. I'll do what I can to make sure he doesn't die."

"You may see him," Marko conceded, then moved on to discussing preparations for Trask's visit with Cain. Charles listened as much as he could, whilst hoping that none of it would be information he needed. When the meal ended, he was dismissed, and escorted by a guard back to his room.

He smiled to see Janos, waiting until they were alone before he handed over the food he had brought. He let Janos eat, before explaining what he had learned. Janos sat beside him, trying to provide support, as Charles fumbled through his explanation. Janos reached out, squeezing his hand gently. Charles leaned in and embraced him, then got up to try his door, unsurprised to find it was locked.

"We may as well sleep, at least for now. The rest might help."

Janos nodded, hesitating, before Charles gestured to the bed beside him. The two of them lay together, and Charles was struck by a moment by the thought of sleepovers with Raven when they were both children, whispering in her mind because no one had imagined the ability he had. He smiled to himself at the knowledge she was still on his side, and let himself drift off to sleep.

***

He woke up to find a familiar blue face staring down at him. Raven reached out, pulling him into a hug, and he returned it, clinging to her shoulders.  
"You're safe..."

"I was worried, Charles," she told him, sitting down beside him. Janos blinked awake as the bed moved, fear crossing his features for a moment before he recognised who had joined them and waved.

"No need to worry. We've got three days," Charles informed her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think of bringing you food." Charles ducked his head, feeling ashamed. He knew logically that he couldn't bring enough for everyone, but he wished that there was something he could do.

"Don't worry,” she smiled at him. "I can move around more freely than you can, Charles. I already ate, and brought food to Hank and Erzengel. And brought some supplies down to those in the cells - it looks like there were a few that they missed."

"Peter," Charles said quickly. "Peter would have got them. I should have listened-"

"I was the one to laugh at you, Charles," Raven told him, pulling him into another hug. "You made a friend?"

"Hmm?"

"There was a little mutant girl who came to the cells when I was there. She said you have a plan... I don't know. Something about her felt strange-"

"Jasmine. She's an illusionist, she's our best hope at the moment."

"Those flowers... Charles, something was hiding Westchester's soldiers."

"Not a child," Charles said firmly. "Telepaths of all kinds can perform a degree of illusion - when we first met Emma she was pretending to wear a suppressant bracelet, remember? And a coherent illusion - that's not the work of a little girl." 

Raven hesitated, and then nodded.  
"You plan to use her to get out?"

"I plan to get us all out, including her. And make the most of the powers we have available. We have three days before Trask's soldiers arrive to take us. I've persuaded Marko to let me check on the rest, decide on the ones that could be soldiers. And I can see Hank and Erzengel tomorrow. How are they holding up?"

"They're alive," Raven said carefully. "For now, that is the best I can offer, but it is something. It means... they're fighting."

"I don't suppose Hank has any of the painkiller he gave me?" Charles asked. 

"I'll check. I shouldn't leave them alone for long," Raven frowned, hugging him again, and Charles leaned forwards to rest his head on her shoulder. He pulled away to look into her eyes.

"Just...so you are aware, Cain desires Erzengel."

"I won't let that happen," she promised, and he nodded, embracing her once more.

"Come back tomorrow night. We can compare progress," Charles instructed, and she smiled at him, nodding her agreement. She slipped away, and Charles quickly reassured Janos that all was well before returning to trying to sleep. He'd need to be rested, and sometimes sleeping helped him to think.

***

"Wake up, Charles." Cain's voice cut through what had been a rather pleasant dream of cuddling up beside Erik, and Charles blinked to wakefulness, trying to reach out with his telepathy and silence the threat, to make this imagined voice disappear - and he was met with silence, and coldness, and the knowledge that Erik was far from him.

"Good morning," he stretched, trying not to look too surprised by Cain's presence. "Is everything alright?"

"The doctor asked to see you. He said it was important," Cain shrugged, leaning against the doorway. "Get up."

Charles nodded, glancing at Janos still asleep beside him. He squeezed his arm gently as he got up from the bed, hoping he'd wake him enough that he wouldn't be startled to be alone in Charles's room. Cain snorted as he stumbled out of bed, as amused as ever about the way Charles struggled to get around.

"You know that we kill lame horses, Charles."

"Well then, it's a good thing I'm not a horse," Charles answered, his temper flaring, and he tried to stay quiet as Cain grabbed his arm and dragged him down the corridor. He struggled to keep his feet under him, knowing that if he fell Cain would think nothing of pulling his arm from its socket, not when he was in this kind of mood.

Cain stopped outside the door, glaring at him.  
"You better not be planning something. If you are, I'll find out, and I'll make you regret the fact you were ever born. He's _mine_."

"I promise you I'm not interested in him in the least. After I see him, can I see the rest-"

"Later," Cain snapped. "Father wants you to pick out the warriors."

"I can try," Charles said. He was still afraid that he might be misjudging this, that Marko might be planning to kill any mutant that posed a potential threat. His options were to risk killing them now, or be certain of them dying under Trask's service. It was no real choice at all. 

"Good. Maybe you will be useful for something after all." Cain pushed the door open, shoved Charles inside, and then walked off.

Charles felt it was an achievement that he avoided falling flat on his face, his arms windmilling through the air until he managed to catch himself. Raven raised an eyebrow, back in the guardsman's form once more. She walked forwards, sitting him down on the edge of the bed. 

Hank stepped forwards, and it was still strange, seeing him in a form that looked nothing like what he normally did, the blue fur replaced by skin that looked a little too pale. Charles was careful not to look too closely, just smiling at him.

He cleared his throat, glancing over at Erzengel who was sat up at the far end of the bed, his undamaged wing tucked around his body as the damage one trailed limply over the sheets.  
"How are we all holding up?" Charles asked, feeling helpless.

"I .. I'm not sure how aware Erzengel is of where we are," Hank said softly. "I've persuaded your brother he needs a few days to heal before he's.." Hank lapsed into silence, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"We should be out by then," Charles reassured him. "We're going to need to escape. I wanted to ask you, firstly if you had any painkillers - my back has been troubling me-"

"I'm afraid not," Hank answered, and Charles pushed down the spike of disappointment he felt at that moment.

"It's fine. I just thought I might as well ask." Charles took a slow steadying breath, trying to work through his next steps. "I believe Cain will give you access to anything you say you need to heal Erzengel." He paused. "Do you think you can get me poison?"

Hank stared at him, and slowly shook his head.

Charles reached out and embraced Hank.  
"Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere. It's to take them out. If we can get rid of Marko and Cain, or even sicken them... it will give us a better chance of escape."

Hank nodded slowly.  
"I will do what I can sire. I'll go and investigate what is available-"

"Do not ask for the poisons yet. Just a few simple things that might actually ... might soothe him. There's no need for him to worry," Charles said, before hearing a soft whimper from Erzengel. Turning around, he saw he had his face buried in Raven's shoulder. She had abandoned the guard's form for Psylocke's, and was rocking Erzengel carefully, humming a tune Charles didn't recognise.

"She's been helping keep him calm. If he panics he might injure himself worse." Hank sighed. "I tried, before, and he was making progress in Genosha, but... he can tell we're afraid, and it's making him worse." Hank shook his head. "I'll go and investigate the situation, and start to look for what I can use. You stay with him until I'm back?"

"Of course," Charles promised, staying by the bed, waiting.

***

"Alex." Charles smiled, as Alex strode forwards to embrace him. "It's good to see you."

"Please tell me they aren't locking you up down here as well?" Alex frowned. Charles couldn't help seeing the shadow of the frightened young man that he had met when they'd first left Westchester. But he'd grown now, become more confident.

"No, just a visit I'm afraid. Marko wants me to select those that would be suitable as warriors. Hopes to encourage your loyalty," Charles leaned in and whispered against his ear. "I don't think we can trust him."

"Now why ever would you think that," Alex whispered in return, pulling away after a moment. "I suppose I'm one that you have chosen?"

"Indeed. You know I... didn't have much time to consider everyone's powers." Charles glanced at the guard. "I thought perhaps you could work out who would be useful."

"For what kind of thing?"

"Defensive, mostly," Charles said quickly, hoping that Alex would understand what he meant. That he was relying on Alex deciding how they could keep everyone safe. Alex nodded slowly.

"I'll see what I can do."

"You never know, maybe you'll get your powers back for a little demonstration," Charles said, and Alex laughed.

"Maybe." He nodded. "I will do what I can, sire." He moved in for another embrace. "We can organise. We'll be waiting on your signal."

"Thank you." Charles pulled away to look into his eyes. "I knew that we could count on you."

Alex nodded, and then stepped back towards Darwin.

"I want the list ready by tomorrow," Charles instructed, hoping Alex would be able to come up with a viable plan to get them away to safety. They still lacked a teleporter or an ability to make portals. 

That didn't matter, Charles realised, with a sudden burst of triumph. If he had his telepathy, he could use the transporter that had brought them here to get back to Genosha. He turned to the guards.

"I want to go back to my room."

***

Charles considered over dinner how he had moved each of his pieces into position. Raven was going to handle Cain. Hank was searching for a poison he could use. Alex was gathering the warriors. Even when he spent much of his time locked into his own bedroom, he was making progress on their escape.

The conversation passed over his head, and he was grateful for that, Cain apparently struggling to find new insults after the previous night. He filled his pockets with stolen food, both for Janos, and for any others who might need it.

For a moment, he thought he caught a glimpse of Jasmine among the servants, but then she was gone once more. He glanced around the room, looking more closely at the servants. A few smiled when he made eye contact with him, and he thought of those he had trusted to help him after he had fallen, the maids that had helped him relearn to walk, the cooks that had ensured he didn't go hungry. 

Not all humans were bad, and he knew that some mutants were just as bad as the worst of humanity. Charles just wanted to ensure that his people would be safe, but that didn't mean he hated everyone here. He wasn't completely friendless. 

He held onto that as he said his good nights, and returned to his room, greeting Janos and handing over the food. As Janos ate, Jasmine stepped out from behind a curtain, waving at them shyly.

"Hello, Jasmine. I thought I saw you at dinner."

"You did!" She smiled shyly, doing a little twirl in her dress. Charles applauded, and she giggled quietly, slowly stepping closer. "I wanted to see you."

"It's good to see you too."

"Are you really going to be able to escape?" Jasmine asked. "And really go to where... where all the mutants will be happy?"

Charles nodded. He understood the girl wasn't really in the room, but he still longed to hold her. He was fairly sure she had never been given enough hugs.

"I've been finding out things!" She told him, a burst of butterflies appearing in the air around her. She blushed, and waved them away, and Charles laughed softly.

"What did you find out, sweetheart?"

"I found out that the guards to the cells are scared of the mutants, so they stay back. And I found out that the king's son has a key to the cells, and to your collars..." She looked up at him nervously, and Charles smiled.   
"Thank you, Jasmine, that's very helpful to know. I'll find a way to get the key."

"I'd get it but..." she reached out, towards a table, and her hand passed through it. She frowned, and sighed dramatically. Charles thought of Raven when she'd been little, and just how dramatic she could be at points.

"You're doing all you can, Jasmine, that's more than enough."

Jasmine nodded slowly.   
"What's it like?"

"What like?"

"The place all the mutants can go?"

"It's happy. All the children can learn, can live freely, and we have all kinds of foods and plants... we're safe there. We can get safely there again..."

Jasmine nodded, looking at him curiously, then biting her lip, and frowning a little.   
"You can't go yet though. You won't be able to."

"Oh?"

"There's.... there's a bad mutant. He's working with the people who got you." She wrapped her arms around herself, and Charles ached with how badly he wanted to embrace her, and how afraid she clearly was. "You'll have to get rid of him, or you won't ever get out."

"Alright," Charles smiled. "I'm sure my friends and I can manage that. Don't be scared, we'll look after you."

Jasmine nodded. "I ... I need to go now. I'm tired." 

Charles nodded, letting her slip away, wishing he had his telepathy to reassure her. It was clear she needed that comfort, and it felt like the least he could offer the poor child when she'd done so much for them already. He would get her home, get her back to Genosha where she would thrive, the same as the other Westchesterian children had. He hated that she had been missed the first time, but knew her freedom to move unaided was going to help them all now.

He couldn't help wondering how Erik would react when he brought home a child. He smiled to himself as he fell asleep, picturing his husband meeting her. He imagined Erik would be utterly enchanted. He certainly was.


	10. Warrior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags have been updated, please heed them.

Erik stepped out into the blinding sunlight, attempting to keep his mind calm rather than surrendering to the panic which bubbled beneath. He needed to be placid, relaxed. He needed to not allow his thoughts to focus on the plan, and that was hard, because the more he tried to cut those thoughts off the louder they echoed.

He couldn't let the man know what he was planning. If they knew, then his sacrifice would be for nothing. They might just kill him. He reached out, felt the metal in the structure, clearer now that he knew what to look for, twisting lines of it threaded deep into the stone. If he was stronger, he could tear it apart - and he couldn't think that, couldn't give away the plan, couldn't surrender that information, but his heart was racing.

 _Think of Charles,_ Emma's voice in his head wasn't unkind. He wasn't sure if that was her attempt at solving his immediate problem, or if she was trying to give him the strength he required for what would come next. Either way, he was glad for it. He focused on Charles, on the memory of his smile, the warmth of his skin as he cuddled close, the way he laughed. He was surrendering for Genosha. But he was also doing it for Charles. He focused on that as he approached the structure, seeing how the light glinted from the burnished top. 

He tried to memorise how it looked, thinking absently of showing Charles one day, encouraging his husband to look in his mind. He wondered how Charles, who had responded to Genosha with such wonder, would respond to a land like this. Not now though, not when the land was parched and grey. But when the sun shone, and the fields were full of life. He thought Charles would like that.

Charles had spent too many years shut away from the world. Erik was willing to give whatever it took to enable him to enjoy every moment of freedom.

If Westchester had attacked Genosha while it lay relatively undefended - the consequences were potentially terrible. He couldn't let his thoughts linger too long. He just carried on walking. He could feel the chess piece in his pocket, the silver pawn singing to him. He thought of chess games with Charles, and discussions when both of them should have been asleep, and the warmth of Charles's lips. He drew strength from those memories, to walk forwards when every muscle in his body begged him to retreat.

He approached the structure, and for a moment things felt clearer, the thoughts and worries leaving him behind. He paused there, gazing out ahead, aware of his chest rising and falling, but not of time passing, or the brush of the wind. His eyes closed, because it felt natural to close them, and when he opened them again En Sabah Nur stood before him. He smiled, and held out his hand.

Every thought Erik had yelled at him to run. He took a deep breath, stepping closer, but not reaching towards the man's hand.

After a moment, En Sabah Nur smiled at him.  
"Welcome, my child."

"You should let the others go," Erik said, with as much firmness as he could put into his tone. Bargaining for his people's safety was a reason for him to surrender, one that hopefully wouldn't require further investigation. "Azazel is injured."

"He will return home, given time. Here I can heal him. You brought my errant daughter back..." slowly, gracefully, En Sabah Nur lowered his hand and turned his back on him. 

Erik couldn't believe the opportunity handed to him. He called a metal dagger from his pocket, aiming it at the other man's neck, and then used his powers to propel it through the air.

It got within two foot of him, then cluttered uselessly to the ground.

En Sabah Nur didn't even break his stride.

Erik hesitated for a few moments, his breath coming slowly, his heart racing. He wanted to run. He knew he couldn't, but he wanted to, desperately. He needed to be away from this place.

En Sabah Nur did pause then, turning to look back at him and smiling, the look almost fond, paternal.  
"Come with me," he said, and Erik followed. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, to follow the other man towards the structure. Up close, he could see and sense the metal that ran through it, the interlocking lines that laced around its core. He walked through a doorway larger than most buildings, one that dwarfed even the entrance to the keep at Westchester, into the structure itself.

A part of Erik's mind, a part that was still thinking clearly, realised that this was proof that Trask's military commander had strayed far from his plans. The rest of his mind paid that thought no heed, following in En Sabah Nur's footsteps. 

His pulse was slow. He was vaguely aware that he should have been afraid, but he wasn't. He was smiling, a kind of smile he hadn't had for a long time, because he was at peace. It had been so long since he had known true peace, and yet here it was, coursing through him with every breath. 

The man he was following paused at the entrance, staring up at a raised platform. There were others in the chamber, filling it. They were paying him no attention, he realised, their bodies bowed in supplication. Their breaths didn't disturb the air.   
_Erik._

He almost stumbled at the sound of Emma's voice, only practice of hiding that he could hear her preventing him from looking around.  
 _Erik, I need you to focus on me._

 _Of course._ He remembered now, why he was here. What the plan was. He focused on the pawn in his pocket, and the metal about his arms, using his additional sense to ground him and guide him home. The metal at his wrists twisted in an endless array of patterns as he was led towards the central dais. He caught glimpses of familiar figures among the crowd - his finest warriors, joined with those that En Sabah Nur already commanded. He saw white silk, recognised that Emma was stood near the shadows. Her head was bowed.   
_I am ready,_ she told him. He inclined his head, following close by the man who was leading him.

The man that had injured Azazel grunted slightly as they passed, one of the few signs of life, as he was led onwards. The room seemed to be spinning, the air intoxicating, alive with power. 

The metal at his wrists grew sluggish and then stopped, as he walked with En Sabah Nur. The man stood before the dais, and offered Erik his hand.

Erik took it, a faint smile resting on his lips as he gazed at the man. His mind was quiet. He was ready. A weapon, one of the strongest, and to be made stronger. One who would serve at his lord's side, who would bring him victories and triumphs until his dying breath. 

He stepped onto the platform, gazing up in awe at the other man. His senses narrowed, his mind emptied. He knew there were others in the room, but their presence didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the man before him. 

"My son," his Lord's voice was soft. Gentle. Far more caring than Erik could have expected, and as he reached out to brush a finger against his face, Erik leaned in towards the touch, wishing nothing more than to be closer. "You are returned. Are you ready to fight for me?"

"Always," Erik answered, scarcely aware of the word on his tongue. 

"Kneel."

Erik folded to his knees gracefully, and then their Lord reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. For a moment, he was breathless, a wave of pure power soaring through him, taking control, dizzying him. He fell forwards, his hands resting on the earthen ground, and it responded to his touch, tiny fragments of metal within the earth itself calling out towards him. He could feel the jewellery of the surrounding legions, could feel their weaponry singing to him. They were loud, beautiful.

"You are safe now, my son..." Their Lord was speaking, his words resonating with his power. "I am here for you now. You suffered for so long, and now... now you will never suffer again. Reach down, as deep as you can. Feel the metal beneath you, the extent of your power flowing through... my child, we shall be unstoppable." The hand lifted from his shoulder, and he whimpered softly, but a moment later their Lord brushed his hair from his face, then guided him to his feet. The son stumbled, and the Lord caught him, a hand on his arm, before turning him to the assembled crowd.

"My son. My dear boy. My horseman. My warrior." Their Lord smiled at him, and the effect was dizzying. "You shall lead my armies and nations shall fall before you. Do you wish for that?"

Slowly, he nodded, his mind taking a moment to understand.   
"With all my heart."

Around him, he could hear cheers of support, but none of that mattered, not when their Lord was so close, not when he had been chosen above all of them.

He heard a woman's voice calling out in his thoughts. 

It was not their Lord, so he gave it no mind. Nothing mattered but the man he stood beside.


	11. Uprising

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for death of minor characters

Charles dreamt of his home that night. Of rebuilding Genosha after their absence, ensuring that the plants flourished - that life flourished. Of seeing flowers bloom, and watching the children play. He dreamed of his husband, of introducing Jasmine, and in his mind he could already picture Erik's faux-reluctance before he admitted that he was smitten with the little girl. Erik might have pretended to be heartless, and was a ferocious warrior, but he was a good man. Charles wondered how he ever could have looked at Erik, and not seen that goodness which shone within him.

The next day, a tray of food was dumped in his room before the door was slammed shut again. He heard the bolt click home. The lack of freedom posed a potential obstacle, and he longed for the return of his telepathy. But he didn't let it bother him overly, focusing on staying calm and doing what he could. Which for now was climbing back into bed beside Janos, who was blinking up at him blearily.

"It's fine. Get more sleep," he signed, and Janos complied, curling up against his side. Charles smiled, honoured by the other man's trust, and sat upright, trying to plan. Once he had his telepathy back, things would fall into place. He would have to trust that Alex and Darwin would have the children ready to get out. If he could poison Marko and Cain, then that would slow them - but it would leave a potential power vacuum. He frowned, thinking through the high ranking officials, and then picking up a notebook from the nearby table. 

As a mutant, he had no claim to the throne, Marko had seen to that. But with the king that had made that law removed, and no other legitimate heir without receding far back up the family line, Charles would become king.

Charles didn't want to rule Westchester. This place was not his home, merely a prison full of memories that he didn't want to linger on. His loyalty and his heart belonged to Genosha, to his land and to his people. He didn't belong here, and he hadn't belonged here for a long time - and yet for all of that, he felt some degree of responsibility for the people there. He couldn't leave them defenceless and helpless, for all that their nobility had abandoned him.

He knew enough of the politics to know who would rule well. He could ensure that a sympathetic human was positioned on the throne, someone who would ensure Westchester flourished without posing a threat. There were some distant relatives of his who had never minded his telepathy, merely regarded it as somewhat of an eccentricity. They might be willing to consider an agreement to pass future mutants to Genosha, in exchange for support on the throne.

He scribbled down a list of potential names, hating the fact he was a little out of date on his information when getting this right mattered. But he could work with what he had for now, try and set up a few leads, and work out who he could place there in his stead. His first priority was Genosha, but a few conversations before they left - he had to hope it would be possible. If he was able to arrange a method of transportation - but if he needed to stay with them, he would return later, or leave a note detailing his wishes.

He was aware that he was mostly just trying to distract himself from worrying about Erik, about the fate that awaited all of them if he made a mistake. Making plans for afterwards was a comfort, because it implied that there would be an afterwards. That they would get through this, and they would find their way home.

Charles would have given all he had to know if Erik lived. But he was sure that Janos would do the same for news of his husband, or any of them. He wasn't the only one alone. He thought of Peter, of Jean and Scott, waiting for their return. 

He curled up a little in bed, drawing his legs up, ignoring the pain that shot through him. At that moment he needed to feel safe more than he needed to avoid pain.

Janos sat up beside him, signalling quickly.  
"Are you alright?"

"Breakfast," Charles answered.

Janos looked at him suspiciously and repeated the message. "Are you alright?"

Charles shook his head, finding that he was blinking back tears. Janos reached out to embrace him, and he let himself cry in the other man's arms.

Charles allowed himself a few moments of weakness, to cry as Janos held him, and then he pushed down all his fear and pain. Because right now, he couldn't let himself feel it. A couple more days, and he would either have freed his people, or failed and have to watch as they were sent to their deaths. He wanted to be playing an active role, helping. But he was locked in his room, and he had to just trust his people.

He pulled away from Janos, managing a damp smile, and signing "breakfast" once more. Janos nodded, sharing the food with him. He didn't ask any more questions, which was good, because Charles wasn't sure he could answer any of them without crying.

He tried to keep running through his plans, writing out detailed instructions for what was to happen to Westchester after they left. If Genosha could defeat Trask's army then Trask would pose no threat to this country, and an alliance would benefit them both. It helped take away some of his fear, to focus on politics.

They had just finished eating breakfast when Jasmine skipped out from behind the curtain, her hair tied up in a pretty blue ribbon.  
"You look sad?" she asked, concerned.

"No, I'm fine." Charles couldn't allow a child to worry for them. "Just a little tired."

"Oh, okay. Does that mean you need to have rest all day?"

"I'll be alright."

"Okay, because Mister Hank said I should tell you he's got the thing that you wanted." She smiled. "Does this mean we can leave soon?" She looked so hopeful.

"Soon," Charles promised. "It'll be lovely, you're going to be happy there." He paused. "You said that there was a mutant working for them?" It was important to find out what she knew, and to do it as subtly and calmly as possible.

"There's a few. But there's one who can't be affected by telepaths. He's by the gatehouse, and he won't let any mutants out. You'll have to get rid of him." She looked down at the floor, scuffing one bare foot against the ground.

"Okay, we can manage that. And where are you?"

"I'll tell you later." She giggled. "I move around, but I promise I will be there when we leave!" She skipped up towards him, as though planning on hugging him, before remembering such an act was impossible. He smiled at her.

"I'll hug you soon."

She nodded, and then she disappeared.

Janos rubbed his head.  
"Strange," he signed. "I can't understand her but-" He tapped the side of his head.

Charles nodded. "Telepath. A powerful one. She just specialises in illusion."

Janos frowned a little, then nodded. 

Charles couldn't believe his luck - he'd always believed telepathic tendencies were among the rarest, and now he had met three other telepaths. He hoped that when things were settled and they were home, he would be able to reach a greater understanding of telepathy based on examining their abilities. Rather than explain that, he simply sat with Janos, passing him the occasional explanatory note about what he was working on.

The sun was high in the sky when the door opened, and a couple of guards stood there, Cain behind them. Charles turned his back to the group, hunching his shoulders slightly.  
"The doctor wants to see you."

Charles frowned. Trask couldn't be here already, surely. They had another day at least. He needed that day.  
"What for?"

"He needs a break and trusts you with the winged brat? How do I know?" A guard stepped forwards, but the hand on his shoulder was surprisingly gentle, squeezing slightly, fingers tapping against his shoulder.

He slumped back, wondering how he'd missed Raven's presence. His lack of telepathy was hurting more than he had shown, and he was being weakened by it.  
"I'll go. And my servant?"

"Your pet stays here." Cain answered, and Charles shuddered. Raven's hand squeezed his shoulder again, and he got to his feet, trying to sign subtly that everything was alright, holding the symbol against his leg as he stood. Janos nodded.

He was half-shoved down the corridor, stumbling and tripping as he walked, Raven unable to be gentle with Cain right beside him.

"What is it?"

"The doctor and I need to have a little conversation," Cain answered. "I don't think he's being entirely honest with me about his patient."

"Cain, look, he's injured, even you can see that-" Charles answered, before a shove from his step-brother sent him to his knees. He was yanked back up by Raven's hand on his shoulder.

"I'll just talk to him. See that he understands I want this fixed soon - if he cooperates maybe we can keep him back from Trask. You were always saying you freaks were different, right. Maybe you need a special doctor-"

"That... that's actually not a bad idea," Charles conceded. "Talk to him, but afterwards, could I just... maybe if I encourage him it'd work?" Cain nodded, and waited while Raven unlocked the door. Hank smiled shyly, approaching Charles.

"He's a little stronger today. Be careful with that wing, a few of his feathers have come loose, and you need to make sure he eats all of his breakfast. Can you do that while I talk with the prince?"

"I can," Charles promised, reaching out to shake Hank's hand. He half-expected the other man to offer him the poison then, but there was nothing slipped between them, and he was left with Erzengel and Raven. Raven closed the door and slipped into her blue form.

"I hate your brother."

"Step-brother," Charles corrected on instinct. "And I hate him too, but he's predictable. We can use that."

"I don't know how you can stand to... to let him treat you like that. To act as though... as though you want to impress him, I don't-"

"Because it's acting." Charles walked over and embraced Raven tightly. "I know he is a disgusting human being, but he is a disgusting human who could have the people I care about killed on a whim. That's reason enough for me to focus, at least for now. It won't be forever. I can handle a little more simpering and smiling if it gets all of us out of here."

Raven nodded, shivering slightly in his arms.  
"I'm scared he'll hurt Hank."

"I... I'll do what I can to stop him," Charles promised, making his way to Erzengel. Erzengel looked at him, and smiled, and Charles was fairly sure he was recognising him. He longed for his telepathy. With his telepathy, he could ease the pain that Erzengel was in, and encourage him in his recovery. Without it, there was little he could do to provide comfort other than sit beside him. He did that, taking the bowl of porridge that had been left, and carefully feeding it to Erzengel.

"Raven, could you go and see how Alex and Darwin are? I can cope here, at least for a little while." 

"Cain might come back."

"I'll handle it. It's clear Erzengel is still in no fit state- and I want to talk to Hank. I'll be alright on my own. I've handled him for years."

Raven hesitated, and then nodded slowly and stepped away, locking the door behind her. Erzengel reached out for Charles and squeezed his hand gently, and Charles squeezed back. He was sure Erzengel was recovering, growing stronger and more aware by the day, but these were hardly ideal conditions for any healing to take place. He sat quietly with the other man, and waited.

Raven reappeared after a while, and nodded.   
"They say they're ready. And that they've worked out who can look after the littlest ones." 

"Thank you." Charles smiled, moving aside so that she could look after Erzengel for a while. She transformed into Psylocke once more, and his face lit up, reaching out for her. She hugged him tightly, and Charles let her talk to him in peace.

There were footsteps in the corridor outside, and he rushed back to Erzengel's side as Raven once more took on the form of the guard.

Hank walked back in, his face pale. He took a deep breath, heading over to check on his patient.

Charles got to his feet.  
"Cain-"

"Talk to him. Explain the deal we agreed." Cain paused. "You've got a few minutes, then you, guard-" he pointed to Raven. "Take him back to his room. And if you think the doctor's listening he can have some lunch."

"Yes, sire," Raven answered, her head bowed to hide the glow of anger in her eyes.

Cain swept from the room. Raven sneered, and closed the door behind him. Charles tried not to see how ugly anger looked on her face, keeping his head down, reminding himself that he liked and trusted the people in the room. His heart was racing, his mind screaming that he was stuck, and he couldn't afford to panic, not now.

Charles gave Hank a few moments to reassure himself that Erzengel was alright, before he moved closer to him.  
"Hank?"

"It's fine," Hank's voice was shaking. "He didn't lay a hand on me, not... I'm fine. I'm fine..." He whimpered as Raven walked over to him, slipping into her blue form and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, nuzzling at his neck. Charles looked away, not wanting to intrude.

"Whatever happens, I'm not going anywhere," Raven whispered, and Charles tried to ignore the sound of the other two kissing. Hank cleared his throat after a moment, stepping away. 

"I'm sorry about that." He shook his head, as though trying to clear away the dust. "Just brought back some...some bad memories. I want to do more than just... just patch people up so they are hurt again... I guess ...i guess that's what I started off with, but I thought I'd moved past it."

Raven squeezed his hand, sitting down on the bed, as Charles walked closer and silently offered Hank an embrace. There was a brief pause before Hank accepted it, leaning into his arms and hugging him tightly. 

"Sorry." Hank looked at the floor.

"You don't need to be sorry. This is getting to all of us."

"I just... I remember being not much more than a kid, and helping Janos when his arm had been broken. And knowing it was.... it was all so pointless, because one day I wouldn't be able to fix him. And I remember ...I remember General Essex telling me that it was fine, there were plenty more mutants, that he'd keep me safe because I was helpful as though... as though that was the problem. It... I can't lose Erzengel, Charles. He's trusting me to keep him safe."

"You are doing a wonderful job of that," Charles promised. "And I know it's scary, but we aren't... we aren't alone any more." He took a step back. "Did you get the poison?"

"I did." Hank hesitated. "You do... understand that this will kill them?"

"That's... that's rather the idea,” Charles answered, taking a deep breath. "What did you find?"

"There... there were a few options. But... our best option is hemlock. It'll be quick, relatively. I'll need you to get it into their drinks, and make sure they both take it - the effect is quick, so if they don't drink at once... it'll be minutes, but once they've drunk it ..." Hank shivered a little. "It'll make them go into respiratory failure. They won't be able to breathe - it won't be pretty, and be careful of Cain especially, if he works out what's happening he might take a swing at you."

"I'll be careful," Charles reassured. "And you're sure this will work?"

"We've got enough to kill ten men. If you can get it into their drinks, it should..." Hank shivered. "It has to work." 

"It will work." Charles tried to reassure him.

"I had ... I grabbed strychnine as well. It's a lot slower working, but... I'd be worried it gives them time to work out what's happening."

"I understand." Charles nodded. "Hemlock it is." He shivered, a little afraid at the thought of going through with it. After so long, imprisoned and helpless. Before Genosha, before Erik, he never would have dreamed of this. He would have continued to suffer, to assume that was his lot. But now things were different.

Hank pulled a glass bottle from beneath Erzengel's pillow, and handed it over.   
"Good luck."

"Thank you." Charles placed it into his pocket. "Tell Cain if he asks that you're going to be a doctor for the mutants that are kept. Raven... Apparently the key to our collars are in Cain's room. I need you to… when we go to dinner tonight, I need you to get Janos, get that key, and go to the dungeon, get everyone out, and take the collars off those that have useful skills. We might still have to fight our way out of here." He took a deep breath. "I'll make sure Janos knows the plan."

"Got it."

"Once that's done, get them to gather in the main courtyard. Alex needs space for his powers. Try and keep people hidden, there shouldn't be many guards that time of night. When they're safe, come and get me. Hank, you get Erzengel to the courtyard, if you can use my wheeled chair." He swallowed, thinking through who was there. "Make sure no one takes Jimmy's collar off. Raven, take the key when you come and collect me from the Great Hall when you've got everyone else out. If... if I'm not ... If I got caught, you fight your way out, okay?"

She squeezed his hand and nodded.   
"I'll make sure they get out."

Charles nodded, feeling his heart racing.  
"I best go back to my room. Then... we wait."

Raven nodded, and Charles embraced Hank and her once more, before Raven turned into the guard and marched him back along to his room, throwing him inside with a violent push that made him stumble. He was careful not to fall, unsure what would happen if he broke the glass.

Janos was by his side in an instant, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close, before beginning to ask what had happened.

"We have a plan." Charles told him, beginning to set out what would happen next. Janos paid attention, occasionally asking for clarification, but mostly just focusing on what he was being told.

"If they catch you-" Janos started, and Charles shrugged a little.

"This is our best chance." He sighed, gazing at the glass vial. There wasn't even that much liquid in there. But it would kill his stepfather and stepbrother. He didn't know if that was something he should be pleased about. But their deaths would mean a fresh start for Westchester, and for Genosha.

He carefully placed it in his pocket, after wrapping it in a cloth. He felt sick. He hated Marko and Cain, but he'd never wanted to be a murderer, had always thought there was another solution. But now... he drummed his fingers on the table, longing for another option, racing the different information around his head, and always coming to the same conclusion. This was the best chance he had. This was the best chance Genosha had.

He would kill them.

"If they catch me, tell Erik it was worth it?" Charles signed carefully. Janos sat beside him and nodded.

"Feast when we get home?" he asked with quick, clever fingers. 

Charles laughed and nodded.  
"Feast when we get home. Stay with Raven." He sighed, leaning his head against Janos's shoulder. "Thank you." He signed. Janos pressed a kiss against his hair.

Charles hesitated. This would likely be the last time he was in this room, for good or for ill. He paused. "If I give you some things to take? If you can?"

Janos nodded and Charles searched the room, pulling out a few treasured books, and a cloak, an ornament his mother had gifted him once. A few possessions, so that he would have reminders of this life in the future, assuming he lived long enough to enjoy them. He checked the bag wasn't too heavy, and handed it to Janos.

"Is there anything you want?"

Janos hesitated, glancing around the room, and then shook his head.  
"Azazel."

"I know. Soon." Charles smiled at him, and sat at his desk, writing out a formal copy of his orders for Westchester. He couldn't know that they would be followed, but this at least meant he had done what he was able to for the nation, hadn't simply left it utterly defenceless. Hopefully, his wishes would be followed, and both nations would benefit.

He left a copy at his desk, and folded another copy into his pocket. He considered writing a note to Erik, or to Raven. But he chose not to. There was no way he could express all that he wanted to say in the time that he had available - it was better to trust that they knew everything he would have said if given the chance.

"Ready?" he asked Janos, as he heard the sounds of dinner being prepared, the sun beginning to sink low. This was his chance. He checked the weight of the poison in his pocket, and hoped that this would work. When the door opened, he stood and bowed smartly to the guard that was waiting, allowing them to lead him to dinner.

He stepped into the hall, and frowned to see his mother at the table with Marko and Cain. He had never planned for her to witness this, but she would have to. He limped to his seat, watching the servants closely. After the food was presented, they filed away, leaving just the four of them around the table.

Charles had to wait for the perfect moment. He knew Raven would already be moving - that he had to ensure that his stepfather and stepbrother wouldn't leave the table alive. But he had to do this carefully.

"Cain tells me that you're keeping one of the doctors among those we aren't sending away?" Marko asked.

"I believe he'd-"

Cain snorted loudly, and Charles shot him a glare before continuing. 

"He'd be helpful, if we are to maintain a fighting force. There is a high risk of injury amongst our fighters, and if we are keeping a few, it seems useful to know they will stay in top condition." Charles stared at his food.

"You aren't attracted to him are you, Charles?" Cain sneered. "A weak little thing like that-"

"No. But I do hope he can provide me with some medicine for my back," Charles admitted. "He isn't my type."

Cain muttered beneath his breath, as his mother downed her wine.

"Trask's men should arrive tomorrow, Charles," Marko addressed him. "I have already told them you will stay, as you are one of Westchester's heirs. But you must under no circumstance let him know there are mutants we haven't presented to him."

"I understand, sire." Charles bowed his head. 

"And you will treat him with respect?"

"Yes, sire." Charles kept his head down. 

"Would someone fetch another drink?" Charles's mother asked, and Charles knew this was his chance. But he stayed still, letting his mother turn to the others. "Cain-"

"Charles can get it." Cain glared, and Charles stumbled to his feet, heading over to the waiting jugs. He quickly slipped the poison into an empty jug, then added a small amount of wine, hoping it would mean there was a concentrated enough dose. He carried the jug back to the table, pouring first for Marko, then for Cain, topping up their glasses. 

He moved on to his mother's glass, filling it, and then knocking it with the base of the jug as his hands trembled. He tried to make the movement look natural. The wine spilled across the table, spreading out, and staining the cloth, splashing down onto his mother's clothes.

"Clumsy oaf," Cain snarled, as Charles fumbled to mop up the spilled wine, letting the empty jug fall to the floor. His mother frowned at the dress.  
"Brian, you spilled wine-"

He shook his head, and helped her to her feet. "Why don't you go and change, mother." He pointed her towards the door.

"Yes dear," she wandered away from the table, leaving the room, and Charles felt relief flood him. He didn't want his mother to witness what came next. He continued to wipe up the spilled liquid, before stumbling back to his seat.

"Charles," Marko glared at him. "I do hope I can trust you to act with a little more decorum tomorrow.

"Yes, sire."

"I don't know how you avoided being stabbed by that warlord," Cain snorted. "I doubt I could have had you in my bed for more than a couple of nights before I tired of you."

"I think he found me useful for other reasons," Charles muttered. Cain laughed, taking a gulp of his wine. Marko just smirked and shook his head, taking a drink of his own. Charles pretended not to watch them, not wanting to provoke too strong a response. He had to wait, for as long as it took. He had to hope that the liquid really was what Hank had said, that they hadn't all been led into a trap.

He tried to stay calm, wondering how long it would take. If it was already working. He felt his hands shaking.

It was Marko who first showed a sign that it was taking effect, a frown settling across his face, and then he stretched, and then reached for his chest. He turned to Charles.  
"What... what have you done-"

"You-" Cain got to his feet, stumbling, and then crashing to the floor before Charles's chair, staring up at him, gasping for air. Charles couldn't look away, hypnotised by the sight of it. 

Cain started yelling for help, but there was no breath left in his body. After a few moments, he fell still.

Charles sat in his chair, alone in the room, and allowed himself to cry, his pulse racing from fear and his body shaking. He took his wedding ring from his pocket, sliding it on and pressing a kiss to the cool surface. Whatever happened now, he no longer needed to hide his love for Erik. He felt sick, and he wanted to run away, his own breath coming in short gasps.

"Charles?" Raven's voice cut through his panic. He looked up and saw that she was in the human form she'd used when she'd been a servant here. "Charles, come now... you have to get out of here..."

Charles nodded, trembling as he crouched down by the body of his stepbrother, closing his eyes and mouth, and then doing the same to his stepfather. He took the signet ring from his stepfather's hand, and placed it on the table with his letter, before making his way to Raven.  
"How... how is it going?" he asked, trembling.

"Well enough," she smiled. "Got everyone from the dungeon."

Charles nodded, wanting to race from the room. It wouldn't be long until the corpses were discovered. 

Raven held out the key, and he nodded, allowing her to approach it. He tried to pull up what shielding he could as she fumbled with the collar around his throat. And then it fell away, and he could feel the minds that surrounded him once more, the bright fire of the mutants nearby. 

Charles nodded slowly.  
"It's time to go home."

He could feel his sister's relief mixing with his own, and stumbled slightly, gripping her hand as he walked towards the door, leaving behind the bodies of his stepfather and Cain. 

He was still shaking, but he had to stay calm. He could feel the Genoshan's excitement and fear and hope, and knew it fell on him to lead them. He made his way out towards the courtyard, smiling when he saw Alex and Darwin waiting, surrounded by Genosha's children.


	12. Surrender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Posting a little early because I am busy tomorrow)

Their Lord smiled, and all was right within the land, within the son's world. There was nothing outside, no fear or pain or horror. At times glimpses appeared, flickering at the edges of his consciousness, kind faces and cruel, and then their Lord would come to him, and those thoughts would fall away.

The son stood beside their Lord, and he did not fear him. He could feel the metal that surrounded him, the metal deep beneath his feet, the iron in the very rocks. It sung to him, cocooned him, and there was no fear. There was peace, and there was their Lord, and there was nothing else.

Time passed, in an endless moment, and the son didn't fear it. He was sure that one day the very earth they stood on would fade to dust, and through it all their Lord would be at his side, and he did not fear.

There was metal at his arms, so that if he needed, he could guard their Lord. He was willing to fight, when the time came. To throw down his life, as they all would, to protect their leader, their hero, their guardian. The metal hung heavy and dull, still as the dust that floated in the air, waiting as he was on their lord's words. 

Their Lord turned to him, a kindly look in his eyes, as he assessed his weapon, knew his strength. Nothing mattered but the man before him. He remembered water - laughter - silence. The memories or ideas or dreams that had bubbled up faded once more, ash on the breeze, and those thoughts left him. 

"You are troubled, my son?" Their Lord asked, and the son shook his head. 

"No, my Lord."

"Good." Their Lord smiled at the son. He had no need to feel troubled, no need to fear or to feel or to think. There was only this. He stayed close to their Lord, seeing the legions of his army, and knowing that they too understood this man's presence, understood who would see them safely through the darkness, who would lead them to victory and to power. 

There was no fear. No sorrow, no hope. The son's heart beat slow beneath his armour as their Lord stood beside him. There was nothing but his presence.

The memories flickered. The look of fear in the eyes of a man he loved. Red skin, a summer breeze. A kind smile, eyes reflecting the candlelight. Laughter. A woman who was beautiful, with skin like ice. Children playing.

Something darker. Blood splashed across the ground. Melted metal, a woman lying limp. A girl with a flower of silver in her hair. He saw a figure approach, heard a woman's voice in his mind, taking on a frantic tone, getting louder and more panicked by the moment until it was all he could hear, and there was metal in his pocket and it meant-

Their Lord's hand brushed his own, and he gazed up at him, feeling the metal of their monument calling out to him.  
"You need not think, my son. You need not fear. You could move the world, my child. You shall lead my armies to victory, my warrior, my horseman. You wish for that?"

"With all my heart," he answered, the words coming slowly. He nodded, and smiled, and watched their Lord beside him. There was nothing but this man, this leader, this power. Their Lord smiled.  
"Soon, it shall be time for your victory."  
The son nodded, and waited. He was near their Lord, and he felt at peace.


	13. Defence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags have been updated. I will fix this, but this chapter may be emotional. Take care of yourself!

"Charles!" Alex called out, rushing forwards to embrace him. Charles returned the embrace gladly, his eyes scanning the crowd. The children were standing clustered together, Jimmy not the only one with a collar at his throat - the priority had been getting the fighters free. Darwin was carrying little Nina, who was clearly tired, clutching at his shoulders. Janos was holding the hand of Kitty, Bobby and John nearby. Hank was blue again, resting against the wheeled chair where Erzengel was sitting, and Raven was at Charles's side. Every one of them had got out. He could see injuries, and he knew that this would take time to heal - but the priority for now was getting out of Westchester, getting home.

They would need to use the teleporter Trask had offered for that. Charles scanned the castle, concentrating despite the pain in his head because he was sure that somewhere was the information he needed. He could feel the brightness of a few mutant minds clustered in the keep. So that was where the teleporter was. It was also the place Jasmine had warned him about.

"Alex, I need you to come with me." He looked around, smiling when he saw Angel. "You too, there's a girl we have to collect, and she'll feel safer with you." He would use his ability to ensure the teleporter didn't leave. It was going to be difficult, as they'd need repeated trips, but Charles was determined that he could manage.

He smiled. "Wait, we won't be long."

He led the two he had chosen to the keep, wishing for Erik's power and the skill with which he could have opened the door. Alex blasted the lock, as Charles used his power to keep all those within lost to sleep, to ensure no one woke to raise the alarm. The door swung open.

"Hello," a familiar voice called out, and Jasmine stepped around the open door. She looked pale, tired, and Charles wondered when she had last slept. She had done so much to help them. He couldn't have made it out without her.

"Hello," he crouched down for a moment, wondering if he could embrace her, but she still stayed out of his reach, her form ephemeral. There was a hollowness to her face now. She didn't look well.

"We've come to get you. It's okay, you can rest soon."

"And we'll go to where we can be happy?" She asked shyly, her face the picture of hope.

"We can. Are you in here?"

She nodded quickly, fiddling with the hem of her skirt. "You'll be my friend?"

"I'll be your friend," he promised. "I'll always be here for you, Jasmine. Are you hurt?"

She nodded, blinking back tears.   
"The bad man. He'll stop you leaving, you have to stop him."

"I will, it's okay, it's okay..." He longed to embrace her, to keep her safe. To protect her from the cruelty of the world. He would get her home, introduce her to Erik, and she would never have to be this afraid again. "Can you tell me about him?"

"He's sitting by the fire. You..." She shivered, the thin fabric of her dress offering little protection from the cold night air. "You have to kill him, or he'll stop you-"

"I promise." Charles straightened up, ignoring the ache in his back. None of that mattered, not when they were so close to freedom. He could use his telepathy to defend himself. He scanned the minds. A tangle of minds upstairs, and then before that he could feel a presence that had to be Jasmine, beside something that was too shielded for him to reach. 

For a brief moment he focused his attention on those upstairs, on carefully untangling their thoughts towards Genosha. These were Trask's soldiers. He picked out the teleporter. "Alex, I'm going to need you to help in a few minutes. I have to go in and handle someone, and then I'm bringing the teleporter out. Once he's here we're going to have to lead everyone out fast.

Alex nodded.  
"Are you sure you don't want me to go in first?"

"I can handle this. I'll yell if I need to." Charles didn't know what to expect within the keep, didn't want to hurt Jasmine, and knew that Alex didn't always have the best control on his temper. If what they were about to face was going to be disturbing, it was better that Charles took charge.

He stepped inside the keep, into the room where he could feel the shielded mind and Jasmine's own, calling up his telepathy, preparing for a fight.

The man that was sat by the fire had his head bowed, his hands limp against the arms of the chair he had been propped in. His body was little more than a skeleton, each breath rattling through the air.

He was alone.

He was alone, and he was dying.

Jasmine stepped forwards, appearing at Charles's side.  
"You have to get rid of him."

Charles stepped closer, crouched down, and stared into the man's mismatched eyes, one blue and one green. There were tears there, unshed, as Charles reached out, pressing forwards, placing a hand on his arm.   
"Jasmine?"

There was the faintest flicker of recognition, which faded after a moment.

"You have to get rid of him," Jasmine insisted, and Charles looked at her, diving into the warmth of her mind beside the emptiness of this man's.

He could see it now. She'd been born as Stryker's son, the heir to a kingdom, until her powers began to develop and she had tried to be the little girl he'd met. Then she'd been sent away - far from Stryker, far from what had once been her home. 

Trask had been meant to cure her. He had turned her into a weapon. He had broken her mind, killed it when she was still a child, left only the parts that would be useful as a tool. She had been used to defeat their enemies, obeying without question, no thought left in her mind - until she slowly had started to fight, to cling onto the tiniest scrap of herself that had been left, to escape and explore the castle as the little girl she had never been given the chance to be. She'd been afraid. And then Charles had offered her a home, and a welcome, and she'd done what she could to destroy what remained of the body which imprisoned her, and now she needed him to finish it.

She couldn't disobey, couldn't let them leave. But if she was gone, they would escape.

Charles wiped a tear from his own face, that wasn't matched by one falling from Jasmine's sightless eyes. She was dying, and she was in pain.

He tried to speak without permitting his voice to shake.  
"Do you want to see Genosha?"

The little girl nodded, as the figure in the chair stared straight ahead, and Charles welcomed her into his mind, wrapping his thoughts in her, caressing her mentally, showing her the camp and the river and the flowers and the forest. She laughed, a child skipping in the early morning, and he crouched before her, embraced her, pressing kisses into her soft hair.  
"I'm sorry I can't bring you home."

"It's alright," she whispered. "You tried."

"Of course I.. I love you." He pressed another kiss to her forehead, then stood up and offered her his hand. "Are you ready?"

She nodded, squeezing his hand in their shared vision, and she was trembling a little but he knew he couldn't stall for a moment longer. He focused on the sunrise, on the brightness of the morning and the faint chill of frost, and with a thought, he ended it. 

He stood in his memories alone, until he pulled away, and stared at the body before him. Her hair had been cut short, and there were scars across her head. There was no softness, no tenderness in her life, and he wanted to take her for burial but he knew they couldn't. 

Some childish instinct made him reach out and take the blanket across her lap, folding it into his arms. If nothing else, he would have proof she had lived. If nothing else, he would be able to give that a burial.

He could feel the tears running down his face, but he didn't have time for them, couldn't afford them at this moment. He took a few deep breaths, calling for the teleporter, making him walk down the stairs and out of the door. He followed.

Alex looked up.  
"Where's the girl?"

Charles shook his head, unable to speak. He clutched the blanket close, and nodded, and focused. His people needed him. He couldn't let them down.

Alex nodded, stepping closer and squeezing Charles's shoulder.  
"I'm sorry. She was a good kid."

Charles nodded around the lump in his throat, his hands gripping the folded blanket tighter. He took a few shuddering breaths, blinking back tears. He couldn't fall. He couldn't allow himself to cry and mourn for the girl, for the life he'd dreamed he would have, because there wasn't time. Because he had to focus on the people that were there, Genosha's future in front of him. 

He turned to them, clearing his throat.  
"It's-" his voice cracked slightly. He looked at the crowd, and switched into Genoshan. "It's time to go home."

He could see the hope there, the trust. These people were relying on him to get them home, believing that he would, and that meant he had to. 

Trask's teleporter stood silently at one side, still deeply held under by the telepathic grip Charles was using. He carefully loosened it, just enough for the man to receive instructions.  
"We go in groups," Charles told them. "Alex, I want you in the first group. We don't know what we will face. Darwin, the last. If we come under attack, we need to try and hang on as long as possible. I'll do this as fast as I can." 

His heart twisted, realising that Jasmine could have hidden them. He couldn't let himself think of her, the wound too raw. He approached the teleporter, and beckoned Bobby and John close, to join the first group. He made sure everyone was holding on to each other, and gripping the teleporter, and then he sent him the compulsion to take them to Genosha.

Charles had only travelled by teleporter a few times before, when Azazel had taken him and Jean aside to practice their abilities. But this teleportation felt different - there wasn't the smoke he'd come to expect, or the slight drag of the air against his skin. The sensation was more like blinking as the scene around them changed.

He looked, and he could see Genosha. They hadn't been gone more than a few days. A few of the buildings had been damaged by the troops, but mostly everything was as they had left it.

He held the teleporter in place, seeking out strange minds and finding none. He couldn't trust it, ordering Alex and the other adults to check for any threats, as he stayed with the teleporter and the children. It didn't take them long to sweep the camp, Alex returning with a note clutched in his hands.   
"This was pinned to Hank's door."

Charles carefully tucked the blanket under one arm and took the note, turning it over in his hands, and opening it to see his brother's scrawl.  
'You lose. We took the freaks.'

"John?" Charles called out, and the little boy raced to his side. "Could you burn this?"

John nodded, clicking his fingers together, and there was a spark of flame. It caught the paper, and Charles dropped it to the ground. Bobby watched until the fire had consumed the entire sheet, and then he used his powers to freeze it.

Charles turned to Alex.  
"I'll fetch the rest." He gripped the teleporter, and organised their return.

It was a slow process, moving the remainder to Genosha, and at every point Charles expected the soldiers to swarm. But he brought them through in small groups, until eventually it was Darwin, Nina now asleep on his shoulder, and the last of the stragglers who were moving between the lands. 

Alex embraced Darwin, and they shared a soft kiss, before stepping away, standing with the rest, awaiting orders.

"We all stay close. You can go and see what has happened, but you come back, and no one goes anywhere alone. Pairs at least," Charles ordered, and some of the children went to grab treasured toys as others stayed close.

Charles turned to the teleporter. He scanned his mind, feeling his loyalty to En Sabah Nur's army. He cleared the man's thoughts of where they had gone, of any knowledge of what had transpired that night. He left behind a sense that Genosha was not a place that he should go, that it was a place of his defeat, a place of danger. And then he sent the man away, to curl up in his bed with his absence hopefully unknown.

When the man flickered from sight, Charles stumbled forwards, blinking back tears. Raven was there, guiding him into his chair, her hands rubbing at his shoulders.  
"Erzengel?"

"Hank's taken him to get some proper rest," she told him. "He needs it. You do as well Charles. You've done enough for one day, you can-" 

"I can't." Charles murmured. "I need to find Erik. I need... if what Cain told me was true, if Erik is at risk, I have to help him. He'd help me, if our situations were reversed, I have to-"

Raven looked at him sadly, and frowned.   
"Charles...." 

"She... I couldn't save her, Raven. I promised I'd bring her here, give her somewhere she would be happy and I couldn't... I couldn't save her."

"You saved so many," Raven told him, her voice soft. "I know it's not what you have wanted. But you've saved enough."

"I have to get Erik," Charles insisted, and he could see that Raven wanted to refuse, wanted to say that he needed to rest. But she knew him, and above all else she was loyal. 

Slowly, regretfully, she nodded.   
"I'm coming with you."

"But Hank... the children need you," Charles protested, frightened. He didn't want to drag his sister into a war that they probably would lose, against an army that held them outmatched.

"The children need some of us. Not all, and you can't go alone Charles. I am going with you." 

He nodded, and her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and he clung to her, fighting the tears that wanted to escape him, because right now he couldn't let himself feel that pain.

"We can manage this," she promised. "We don't take many. We wake Nina, get her to call for any remaining horses, and then we ride out. We'll need to get a message to Blink. She'll be fallen back between the two locations, waiting to be called. And then... we go and we bring home your husband."

Charles nodded, looking at her, and knowing that she would keep him focused. If Erik was lost, if their cause was hopeless, she would give him the strength he needed to not give in, because he owed it to his people to keep fighting, to lead whatever was left and help the nation rebuild.

"Do you want to put that blanket down?" Raven asked softly. "You're -"

 _It was Jasmine's._ Charles answered in her mind. _I couldn't save her._

 _Leave it in your tent. And when it is over, when Erik is home, you can bury her._ Raven told him, her hand firm on his shoulder.

He looked up at her.  
"When did you get so wise?"

She smiled, and squeezed softly. "Come on. You need to eat before our journey, and think about who else will join us." She turned to the others, organising a meal to be prepared for them to eat together, no one straying far from the group.

They ate. 

It wasn't a feast, because this wasn't a victory. But it was a meal for hungry mouths, and Charles sat among his people, and focused on the fact that most of them were here. That most of them had escaped a life of servitude and torture. He couldn't let that fail, even as he prepared to risk his own life to find Erik.

"Angel?" he asked the young woman. "If... if something happens to me, do you think that you and Darwin could manage to keep the rest safe?" Charles smiled at Darwin. "And Darwin, could you work with Angel to help them thrive?"

Angel nodded, and Darwin did after a moment as well. 

Charles relaxed a little, despite the pain that still swept through him. No matter what happened, Genosha would continue.

"You should take Alex," Darwin said, elbowing his husband with a smile. "He'd want to help."

"He should stay. You might need him," Charles answered. "I don't want to take many-"

"I'll stay," Alex interrupted. "I don't want to leave you Darwin, and I don't want the children to be left without as much protection as we can give them."

"Thank you," Charles took a deep breath, wondering how this would work. He'd half hoped he would return and find Erik was already there, along with Jean and the rest, but so far there was no sign of them. He tried reaching out beyond the camp, his mind scanning the forest. He frowned, closing his eyes to concentrate.

"Hello-" Peter's voice interrupted his thoughts, and he opened his eyes to find that Peter was standing directly before him. Peter grinned at him brightly. "I wasn't sure if you were coming back but I'm glad you did."

"I'm sorry we were away so long," Charles said softly. "We never should have left you."

"It wasn't like you wanted to," Peter answered, then paused, and zipped away. Charles sighed, a faint smile resting on his lips for a moment - it was hard not to be amused by the sheer exuberant energy of the youth. A few seconds later, Peter was ahead of him, and Scott was clutching his brother tightly, Alex pressing his face into Scott's hair.

Charles watched their reunion, trying to feel joy, and instead feeling pain twisting inside of him uncomfortably. Peter had gone again, and then slowly more children emerged. Warren was being embraced by little Nina, her hands patting him. Other children were clinging to those they loved. Families were together again, and everything was right, and he could feel his tears threatening.

"Jean needs some help," Peter said, and then he found himself rushed through the forest, to where the little girl was sitting on a felled tree, her arms around herself.

"Peter, you shouldn't take people without their permission."

"I knew you'd say yes, you like her."

"That... isn't really the point," Charles answered, but he was already reaching out with his telepathy. The fear she had been feeling had done a lot of damage to Jean's shielding. At points the fires blazed a brilliant white heat, that he could barely approach, blocking her from even an awareness of the world around her, while other parts had turned to ash. Carefully, he set about helping her rebuild, doing what he could but knowing if he wanted to move that day he had to hurry. But he was getting exhausted, and Jean was hurting.

Reluctantly, he decided that he would sleep before he set out after Erik. Mind made up, he threw all of his energy into helping her, until she was calm enough that she could look up at him and address him in her mind.

_Thank you._

_It's alright, I'm sorry I was gone._

_You came back,_ she looked up at him curiously. "Is Jimmy alright?"

"He is, we just need to release him from the collar. He'll be glad to see you," Charles answered. 

Peter frowned.  
"I'm sorry I didn't take him."

"You couldn't. You grabbed everyone you could Peter, you did really well, and I'm proud of you." Charles was aware of the emptiness of his words given the pain he was feeling, but he knew Peter deserved the reassurance. Peter at least seemed to believe him, nodding slowly and then smiling up at him trustingly. 

Charles couldn't stand the trust there.  
"Come on, let's go back to camp." He pulled Jean onto his lap, and let Peter hurry them back. Jimmy raced up to Jean, his collar removed, and Charles took a few moments to try to plan his next steps. 

"In the morning, I will ride out with Raven, and with Peter. The rest remain here to protect our most vulnerable. Peter will be sent back with news when we have it." He could see the frustration in some people's eyes, knew he wasn't bringing enough - but if they were walking into a trap, the fewer people he exposed to danger, the better.

"We should rest. Everyone, stay close together, we are still vulnerable. Darwin?" He knew the other man was able to adapt and endure situations that would leave others ill or exhausted. "Can you watch over the camp?"

"Gladly," Darwin answered. Charles instructed everyone to stay with at least one other person, before heading to his own tent. He was almost there, when a hand fell on his arm, and he looked around to find Raven there, once more in her blue form.  
"Yes, Raven?"

"Charles, you said that no one was to sleep alone. That must apply to you as well."

"Raven-"

"Charles, I mean it. I'm not having you sleep alone when you're in one of these moods. Come and stay in Hank's cabin with me." She let go of him, and then strode off, expecting Charles to follow. He paused for a moment, but then did as she asked.

In the cabin that night, things were quiet. Charles found he was uncomfortable on the bed that Hank normally used, as Hank and Raven slept tangled together on the floor, and Erzengel took the bed that Hank provided for patients.

More than once, he was woken by Erzengel crying out. Hank always rushed to his side, and sometimes Raven was there as well, taking on Psylocke's form. As the sky began to brighten once more, Hank reluctantly mixed a sedative, handing it to Erzengel who drank it trustingly, and fell silent until the morning. Charles still didn't sleep well. He wondered what had happened to harm Erzengel so much, and feared that Erik could now be exposed to the same tortures.

 _Charles?_ Jean's voice in his head was soft, shaky.

_Yes, Jean?_

_Could you think a little quieter please? You're giving me a headache._

Charles sent back a wave of reassurance, feeling guilty that he was hurting her, and then suggested she curl up with Jimmy to keep his concerns out.

He found himself sitting awake, running his fingers over the chess piece that he had taken with him, promising himself that soon everything would be over. He didn't know if it would be finished by him bringing Erik home, or falling in the attempt. But soon they would be reunited. He tried to focus on that as the sun rose, and the camp came to life, far more subdued than normal.

He ate breakfast, then found Nina, curled up with a mouse running up her arm.  
"Nina, could you call for the horses please?"

She did so, and soon four horses emerged from the woodland. Nina went up to speak to each of them. Charles couldn't understand what she was saying, but the emotions from her were clear - she was asking each of them to bring everyone home. He ensured Peter understood the plan, and then set about his goodbyes, promising to return soon, even if that promise tasted like a lie.

Charles climbed onto one horse, leaning forwards against it, fingers brushing the mane.

"Hey!" Hank called out, rushing forwards and holding out two wooden crutches. "We prepared these. They might help." 

Charles nodded, gripping them on his lap. Unable to take his chair when using the horse, he could see the advantage here. Their wood made them immune to Erik's powers, and gave him the strength he might need to stay upright without great pain as they faced what would happen. He nodded smartly to Angel and Darwin.   
"I leave my people in your worthy hands." He told them, and they both smiled.

"We'll do what we can--" Darwin called.  
"--but come back soon!" Angel completed, a fond smile on her face.

Charles turned his horse away and rode onwards, not wanting to face what would come next.

The three of them rode together for several hours. Raven and Peter talked quietly, but Charles was just focused on scanning for any sign of the others. He tried to concentrate, to stay calm as his heart raced.

He could feel the faintest sense of Blink's mind in the distance. He focused on her, calling out his wish for her to return home, putting all of his energy into a focused cry for her assistance.

For a few moments, there was nothing, before the sky before him opened up and Blink stepped through.


	14. Attack

The son didn't need to be afraid. He'd lived a life of fear before, but that seemed faded now, when all that mattered was their Lord. He did not need to think, or to do anything other than obey. He could obey, he could stay close. There was nothing more that was needed than that.

At times, images appeared. Flickers of nameless faces. A pair of soft blue eyes, and then nothing. He wished those thoughts would leave him.

When he rested, those thoughts became louder, as though someone tried to crack his mind apart with the sharp edge of a rock, but he blocked those thoughts from himself, kept walking, kept his head high. The thoughts were no more than dust, grit trying to wear down the monument of stone and metal, their Lord's proud challenge to all comers, a silent shout of victory.

He stood beside the man, and thought of nothing, and feared nothing, and longed for nothing. He would fight, when the time came, and before that he would know calm, and sanctuary, and nothing more than their Lord's wish.

A woman's voice shouted in his mind, the words growing louder and more frantic with every breath he took, and he blocked them from his thoughts. He focused only on stepping forwards, on standing where he should, on obeying and doing what was expected of him, and pleasing their Lord. 

After the shouting in his mind had fallen silent, their Lord turned to look at him, and nodded.  
"It is time for your victory, my child. Are you ready?"

The son nodded. If this was what their Lord wished, he was prepared. He was ready to lay down his life if that was what it took to please their Lord.

Their Lord smiled, his fingers stroking through the son's hair, and he nodded.  
"I trust you, my son. You shall lead our troops to victory."

"I shall lead your troops to victory," the son echoed, gazing up at their Lord with wonder in his eyes and devotion in his heart. 

Around him, in silence, the army massed. Dozens of them, standing side by side, weapons ready, and others who were there merely to be fodder for enemy swords. And he stepped forwards. Their Lord handed him a bar of gold, and he shredded it, sharp blades floating above him, each one aimed to hurt, to cut, to destroy.

The army marched, on the orders of their Lord.

Their opponents were two people, and three horses. 

The son could have cut them down with a wave of his hand. He would have done so, but their Lord had gripped his shoulder, deigned to lean down and whisper in his ear.  
"I want them alive."

Their Lord wished for the enemy to live, and that meant they would live. There was nothing in the world more important than their survival, even if it required the son to sacrifice himself. Their Lord's wishes were first, were above all else, and he would ensure they were fulfilled.

He stepped forwards, closer and closer towards the enemy, the gold dancing through the air, watching the two. There was a woman with a striking physical mutation, and then a man resting forwards on his horse. 

The son strode forwards, closer and closer, planning to return him to their Lord. He walked closer, seeing the man was holding something, which he would bring back to their leader. Closer still, and he could see the vivid burning blue of the other man's eyes - and then silence.

Erik stared, gazing up at Charles. The army of their enemy swarmed around them, and his husband met his gaze.   
_Erik?_ Charles sounded so unsure. As though he didn't know if the man he faced was really Erik. As though he didn't realise that the sight of him, the strength of him, would always bring Erik home, no matter how far he had journeyed.

 _Charles._ Thinking the name, remembering who he was, who _Charles_ was, was a benediction. He stumbled a little, and caught himself, looking up in fear. Charles met his gaze.

_Can you tell me what we're dealing with?_

Erik almost nodded, sending back a sense of agreement, before picturing all that had happened - the loss of the army to En Sabah Nur's plans, his sacrifice, his mindless obedience. The last of those thoughts was tainted with disgust, but Charles sent back comfort, mentally giving the sensation of holding Erik's hand. Erik knew the others were still controlled. That any moment, their stillness would be noted, and that three stood little more chance against the horde than two. 

Charles sent comfort, and Erik let himself trust.

He stayed silent for a moment, pushing down all of the fears that had been building back when he still had his mind. Ever since Emma had first said that Westchester had been attacked, he had been terrified, picturing what could have happened. He'd thought he would be the one to ride to the rescue, bringing his army back to defend those who needed it. Instead, here was Charles, come to find him.

 _Westchester?_ He asked through his mental link, and Charles shook his head slightly. Some of the others around them were starting to shift uncomfortably, and he knew that soon he was going to have to do something. 

Charles nodded.  
 _You remember the plan to tear apart the structure?_

_Yes_

_If I get us in there, do you think you can do it?_ Charles asked, and Erik realised that right now Charles was trusting him. After everything, after losing himself, losing his identity, Charles was trusting him to get this right. He nodded.

 _Come closer._ Charles ordered, before half-falling from his horse. Erik rushed forwards, catching him before he hit the ground, gathering him up in his arms.

 _You meant to do that?_ Erik asked, stepping back as Raven turned her horse around and galloped from the scene. 

Charles spluttered a little, choking on the sand, lying limp and weak in Erik's grasp. This close, Erik could tell he looked exhausted. That he'd barely slept since they were apart. Charles felt vulnerable in his grasp, and the thought of handing him over was sickening. But he needed to do this, needed to go through the motions and bring him up the monument, so that he could pull it apart from inside. Charles said he could handle this. At this moment, he would have to believe him.

 _Carry me inside, and act as though you've caught me. I'll distract him, and then you do what is necessary to destroy the structure. You can do this._ Charles promised, as Erik turned and started walking, trying to imbue his movements with the confidence that had been so easy to find when En Sabah Nur had been the one in control. 

He looked down at Charles.   
_I love you. I love you so much._

 _I know. I love you too._ Charles promised, his mind wrapping around Erik's, pulling him tightly into an embrace. He had to trust this. He had to trust that Charles could manage, because someone had to. They could work together.

He shivered a little, still cradling Charles in his arms, stroking his fingers through his hair after a moment. Charles looked up at him, and there was a sense of trust between them, a sense of safety so different from what had been inflicted by En Sabah Nur. He knew that he trusted Charles. Charles was his rock, was his safety.

He carried him up to the monument, almost stumbling as he heard Emma's voice in his mind.   
_Good to have you back with us, sugar._

_I'm sorry._

_No time for apologies. If you want to apologise, fix this,_ Her voice purred, and the smile on Charles's face implied that he had heard it as well.

En Sabah Nur was standing there, waiting on his raised platform. Erik strode forwards, using the metal weapons of the others to track their movements. En Sabah Nur smiled, and nodded.  
"You caught the threat, my son?"

The security of Charles's mind faded just enough for him to know what was expected, but as he bowed and placed his husband at En Sabah Nur's feet, he was choosing to go through the actions. 

"I brought him back to you, my Lord." The words felt painful on his tongue, but he said them, knowing Charles was there, that he had to protect him.

En Sabah Nur gazed at him, and Charles's mental grip on Erik suddenly tightened, pinning him in place as En Sabah Nur kicked Charles in the ribs. Charles gasped and whimpered, curling up in pain, crying out helplessly, and Erik did nothing because he couldn't move, because Charles was still holding him.

Slowly, En Sabah Nur nodded, with a faint smile resting on his lips.  
"My darling boy, you have done so well. I knew that you would never disappoint me."

"Never, my Lord," Erik answered, his pulse racing, sure that En Sabah Nur must know his betrayal.

 _Wait,_ Charles told him, his voice firm. Charles had a plan, and Erik knew this was their best chance. He sent back a sense of confirmation, and felt his mind return to his own control once more.

Emma's voice was the one that spoke in Erik's head next.  
 _Charles is going to battle En Sabah Nur. I can shield you, and when he gives the signal you tear this place down around us. If Charles succeeds with En Sabah Nur, then we will be able to free the others minds._

Erik looked at the structure they were in.  
 _If I bring this down, I risk crushing all of us._

_Azazel will rescue those he can. If they have their minds, they can escape. Charles is going to try and ensure they are free. In the worst case... if Charles loses, I will have a moment to warn you. We go down fighting. For Genosha._

_For Genosha._ Erik answered, feeling sickened. It should never have come to this. He should never have walked into a trap. But now it was too late to go back.

En Sabah Nur reached down, grabbing Charles’s shoulder and pulling him to his feet, examining him curiously.  
"This one thought he could defeat me? What is his skill?"

"A weak telepath, my Lord. Nothing to fear." Erik sneered, the words hollow on his tongue, placed there by Charles's skill. 

"What have you done to my husband?" Charles asked, trying to thrash from En Sabah Nur's grip, his movements helpless and weak as a kitten. Erik understood, but he still felt sickened as he watched it.

He knew that Charles wasn't as helpless as he was playing at being, that he had a strength to him far greater than En Sabah Nur would ever have suspected. But it was still breaking his heart, to see Charles there in En Sabah Nur's grip, his eyes closing for a moment, unsteady on his feet. It was too much like all of his greatest fears.

He tried to concentrate. He had to trust that Charles could do this, and be ready for the signal. As En Sabah Nur leaned in to look at Charles, Erik reached out with his ability, diving his power into the structure that surrounded him, burrowing into the monument around him. He could feel a presence in his mind - a sheer layer of crystal around his thoughts - not blocking him from his power, but protecting him from the control that had been driving him. Emma was protecting him. His mind had been lost, and that horrified him. 

He knew that after a little while, he would end up thinking about everything that had happened, and it was going to shake him. It was going to burrow into his mind the same way that other dark memories had. But for now, he had to focus on Charles, and on his people. He had to try and protect them in any way that he could, to shelter them and guide them to safety. 

There had to be some way he could protect his people. If he pulled the monument in, it would collapse on them, chunks of rock raining down on their heads. But instead, he could levitate it, or he could explode the structure outwards. It might work.

He heard a snarl, looked up to see En Sabah Nur's eyes closed, his lips drawn back in anger as Charles crumpled to the floor. Charles was crying out, whimpering and squirming on the floor, and Erik wanted to rush forwards to him.

 _Don't, sugar. He's doing this, and you can't help him._ Emma's voice in his head was focused, calming, and he knew he had to trust her. He wanted to run to him and help, but that wouldn't solve things, that wasn't what Charles had told him to do. He had to trust Charles's plan - trust that Charles knew what he was doing. He watched as En Sabah Nur froze, anger and pain warring across his face. A bruise blossomed across Charles's cheek, a cut opening up on his eyebrow. 

En Sabah Nur cried out, and some of the others stepped forwards. Erik kept pushing his mind deeper into the structure, burrowing into the metal, allowing that solidity to ground him. He was ready.

Charles screamed.

Erik went to move forwards, but he couldn't step forwards at all, Emma gripping him.  
 _They need you._ She ordered him, and Erik knew what she meant. They all needed him. Charles needed him. Emma needed him. Genosha needed him. He couldn't run forwards to his husband's side, because his husband wasn't the only one who mattered. 

Charles sobbed, and Erik could see the wounds growing across his body. A burst of pain shot through Erik's body, a lightning explosion of pain. Charles fell still, and En Sabah Nur stumbled.

 _Now._ Emma ordered, and Erik used the power he had sunk down into the monument to tear it to pieces, shredding it, sending rock flying in all directions, trying to keep it away from those inside. He couldn't control the smaller pieces, but the larger chunks had metal embedded within it, and he could throw those as far as he could. Some rock fell to the ground near him, smashing to dust. He felt exhaustion sweeping through him, flinging the strange metal as far as he could, and then he withdrew his power, pulling it closer, focusing it sharper at the metal around En Sabah Nur.

He crushed it, sharpening points to drive into En Sabah Nur's body. The man screamed, and Charles smirked for a moment, triumph flooding them, and Erik could feel Charles's presence in his mind.

En Sabah Nur crumbled to the floor, and Charles's eyes snapped open.

"Erik?" Charles called out, his voice shaking a little. _End him?_

That was simple, after Charles had battered down En Sabah Nur's defences. He could destroy what remained, and the body crumbled to dust. Charles lay on the ground, whimpering to himself a little. Erik crouched down, pulling Charles into his arms, and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.  
"You did it."

"We," Charles corrected with a faint smile. "We did it." He yawned, and Erik cradled him against his chest. 

"Time to go home." Erik told him. Charles was injured and exhausted, and he clearly needed time to recover. Charles gripped onto Erik's shirt, his hands shaking a little, and Erik carried him forwards up onto the platform. He looked at those there, knowing he had to do something, but feeling utterly exhausted.

"Those that wish to join us in returning to Genosha may do so." _Emma, can you help them? I want to get Charles home._

_Take him home, sugar. Your generals have got this now._

Erik smiled at Charles and nodded. Charles looked up at him, and smiled weakly.

"You do realise you can't just sweep me off the battlefield?" Charles asked carefully. "You have duties that you cannot simply turn your back on."

"I... I thought... Emma told us that Westchester had attacked."

Charles smiled, but there was pain in his eyes. Erik wanted to shelter him, to soothe him, but he couldn't do that right now.  
"That can wait. For now, my king, you need to tell your people they are safe."

 _As you wish, my king._ Erik replied. He kept Charles in his arms, standing on the raised platform.  
 _You can scan the minds around us for danger or disloyalty?_

 _Emma and I both can._ Charles reassured, and Erik helped him to stand, letting Charles rest his weight back against Erik's chest. 

"The tyrant has fallen." Erik said, trusting Charles and Emma to be carrying his message to all of those there. "Those who wish to remain here, may do so. Those who serve Trask, can leave now. Any who wish to join us will need to be checked to ensure that they do not mean harm, and to be certain they will not harm our people."

"And those who wish to join us-" Charles said softly, but his voice carried. "They will be welcomed." Erik could see that Charles was looking down at the children as he spoke, their skin patterned with their mutations. "Whether they've had family before or not, they will have a family in Genosha." He collapsed weakly, leaning against Erik's chest, and Erik helped him up into his arms.

"Emma?" Erik called out, and she stepped forwards, bowing her head. "You can handle this?"

"I can handle this. Take him home, clean those wounds. We will follow." Emma smiled at him. _I missed you, sugar. It's good to have you home._ He could feel the relief in her voice, hated what he'd put her through. But that was a problem for later -- all that mattered now was Charles.

Azazel stepped forwards from the crowd, bowing to Charles and then to Erik. He was still a little pale, his skin less vivid than normal. But he was healthier than he had been, and he looked at peace.  
"I can take you to Blink. She will return you to Genosha, the rest of us can follow shortly."

Erik frowned, unsure. He couldn't turn his back on his people simply for his own pleasure.

"Just take Charles to get clean. Wipe away the blood, make sure he's presentable, that both of you are ready to face your people. Because once this starts... you are going to have to be strong. Take a few moments to be together, to enjoy it." 

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. Once I have got my whirlwind in my arms, I have no intention of letting him go." Azazel's tail twitched slightly.

 _Must you be so intolerable?_ Emma butted in with an exhausted sigh. _Go, do what you must, but we won't stall them for long._

Erik looked at Emma, and nodded fondly. _Thank you._ Azazel placed a hand on Erik's arm, and one on Charles's shoulder, and the world faded around them.

They reformed in front of Blink, who bowed low.  
"My lords, it is good to see you again." 

Raven walked forwards, her eyes widening as she saw the injuries on Charles.  
"What-"

"No," Charles shook his head. "I'll talk later. For now... Erik and I are going home.The others should be here in a few hours, as Azazel cannot transport them all. When they arrive, I am trusting you to get them back. By then we will be ready. We just... need a few moments."

Raven nodded, leaning in and kissing his cheek, before she looked up at Erik, darting back out of his grasp.  
"Make sure Charles tells you what has happened."

Charles shot a glare at his sister, which made Erik even more concerned about what had occurred in his absence. He worried what might have happened while he was away. 

Charles sent a wave of soft comfort to him. _I brought them home. They are all waiting._

Erik knew that wasn't a full answer, wasn't a solution. But for now he just wanted to take care of Charles. To allow themselves, for a few moments, to be Charles and Erik, rather than the kings of Genosha. It was a weakness he knew he couldn't allow himself, but he would take it because he had little choice over his feelings. He needed this moment. 

"Blink, if you could open a portal to our tent?" Charles asked carefully, and she nodded, the air before them splitting open.

Erik stepped through, Charles cradled in his arms. After a few moments, the portal closed, and Erik leaned in to kiss Charles. He planned the kiss to be delicate, gentle, but when Charles's lips met his there was no tenderness there, just passion and need and relief and fear. Charles gripped him close, and Erik carried him across to their bed, lying down with Charles beside him, kissing him deeply.

 _Alex is bringing a jug of water so that you can clean the cuts._ Charles informed him, still kissing him, not pulling away. Erik sensed a metal jug approach, and lifted it carefully from Alex's hands, floating it into the tent and to his hand. He placed it on the side, and settled Charles on his lap.

He lifted Charles's shirt over his head, startled to see the amount of bruising and cuts across Charles's body. He leaned in to kiss at his throat, before taking a cloth and carefully wetting it, starting to gently clean away the dried blood.  
"How did these even happen?" 

"The fight with En Sabah Nur. We met in my mind, and he was... strong. But-"

"But you were stronger," Erik supplied, leaning in to kiss him.

"I was stronger," Charles agreed. Erik wiped the blood from his skin devotedly, kissing across each scrape and bruise he came across.

He lay Charles down on the bed, wiping the dried blood from his chest and then his back, rolling him over and hesitating slightly when he reached his trousers.  
"Do you-" 

"It's fine." Charles answered, lifting his hips slightly so that Erik could slide the fabric down. Erik leaned in, kissing over his hips and stripping him completely, wiping the cloth over his skin to clean the blood away and nuzzling gently against his bruises.

His own tunic joined Charles's on the floor. He leaned up for a kiss, as Charles's hands fumbled with the laces to finish undressing him. Erik smiled down at Charles, and Charles ran his hands up his hips.  
"How do you want to do this?" Erik asked, and Charles shrugged.

"Don't make me do the heavy lifting, my back hurts," Charles laughed, and reached to rest his hands against Erik's hips. "If... if this is alright?"

Erik nodded, leaning down for another kiss, stroking one hand across Charles's cock, feeling him hardening in response to it. "I missed you."

"You didn't miss me," Charles smirked. "You didn't even know your own name."

"I kept thinking of you-"

"Emma was projecting -"

"Just let me be romantic." Erik laughed fondly, kissing at his throat, picking up the bottle of oil and reaching behind himself, getting ready as he pressed hot kisses against Charles's collarbone.

 _You are incredible,_ Charles answered, his hands tightening on Erik's hips, pulling him closer. Erik sunk down slowly onto Charles, the familiarity of him filling him entirely. He ran his hands over Charles's chest as he began to move, setting a fast rhythm. Charles's hands guided him, gripping tight and pulling him close, matching his demanding pace. Erik was glad to follow it, to put everything that had happened over the past few days behind him. It was just him and his husband, as lovers, united and moving as one.

It didn't take long for climax to sweep through him, moaning softly as he held onto Charles's shoulders, rocking more slowly as Charles came within him. He leaned forwards, kissing him again, panting as he felt Charles softening. He pulled away, to lay over Charles. Charles reached for him.

After a few moments, he realised Charles was shaking, tears shining in his eyes. He reached out, pulling him closer, and pressing a kiss to his forehead.  
"Charles?" Erik asked gently. "What happened while we were gone?"


	15. Daughter

Charles wrapped his arms around his husband, leaning up to press a kiss against his lips, shaking. 

"Charles?" Erik asked, frowning now. "What happened? Emma said Westchester-"

"Westchester... Westchester's soldiers attacked, led by my stepbrother, Cain. They took us from Genosha, they... they had a teleporter..." Charles shivered, and he could see the concern shining in Erik's eyes. He shook his head. "I told them whatever they wished to hear. I kept our people safe, and... in the end I got rid of them. I killed... I killed them. Poisoned them." He shuddered, remembering the look in his stepbrother's eyes as he breathed his last. "I got our people back, and came for you."

"Thank you," Erik smiled. "I knew you would be able to save us, if any of us could."

"Always," Charles smiled, blinking back his tears. He felt sick with sorrow, not sure where he stood on this. "I got all our people home."

"Then you managed a great victory. I am only sorry I was not there for you when you needed me."

"No..." Charles shook his head. "Trask had engineered it. He was working with Westchester, this was his plan. To take our children for experiments, to..." he shuddered, and Erik moved to tuck Charles against his side, his hand resting against his bare hip and squeezing, brushing his thumb over the soft skin. 

"What else was it?" Erik asked quietly. "There was something else, wasn't there?"

"There was a girl. A little mutant girl. She... she'd been through so much. She was..." Charles sighed, closing his eyes and leaning against Erik's shoulder. "I couldn't save her." He shuddered. "Can I show you?"

Erik nodded, and Charles closed his eyes, pressing his head against Erik's shoulder. He tried to hold back his tears as he gently pushed his thoughts forwards, his memory of the little girl who was willing to do whatever she could to help them get home. Of her fear of the figure that her soul inhabited, the broken body that she had left. The fact Charles had destroyed her so that they could leave. A child who had suffered so much. He tried to show Erik how much she had meant to him. "I..."

Charles moved to sit up, looking down at Erik restlessly.  
"I thought... maybe she would be our daughter. A telepath... she..." Charles whimpered, losing his ability to speak as he fought back tears. After a moment, he gave up the fight, tears spilling down his face. _I wanted her to be safe. She'd... they'd hurt her so badly. They destroyed her mind, and there was just... just a tiny bit of her that held on..._

He shuddered again, harder, glancing over at the blanket. "I brought her blanket home, so we can... so we can... we can bury her..." Charles shook in Erik's arms. Erik's hands were stroking up and down his back, until suddenly he stilled.

"You brought back a blanket she used?" Erik frowned, and Charles nodded. "And you ... you held her mind as she... how well did you see her mind?"

"I saw all of it, Erik. That little girl... she'd been through so much." _Too much._

Erik nodded slowly, pressing a kiss to his forehead.  
"Do you trust me?"

"Always," Charles promised. "I trust you."

Erik nodded, and Charles could feel the thoughts churning around Erik's mind, the words hiding in his native language where Charles couldn't hear him. He suspected Erik was doing that deliberately.  
"Charles, we need to get our people home. We have to prove that we are still in control, that we can protect them. We should have a feast, to take care of them."

Charles nodded, kissing him softly. He understood how important it was to Erik that he gave those feasts, that he showed everyone how he was able to provide for them, that he cared. That rather than meaningless parades, he would share the riches of Genosha with them.  
"We can do that." 

Erik smiled at him, pressing a kiss to Charles's lips, and got to his feet, going to get dressed. He passed Charles an ornate tunic. Charles could feel Erik enjoying dressing him well, being able to look after him. Erik walked over to his own discarded clothing, pulling out the silver pawn that he had carried with him throughout the time they had been separated. He placed it down on the board. Charles smiled, and held out the gold pawn. 

Erik floated it over to himself, placing it carefully on the board.  
"You kept me close?"

"I kept you close." Charles admitted. "Through all of it... there were points that you were the only thing that was keeping me sane. I knew that I would see you again."

Erik walked over to embrace him, lifting him up into his arms and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. Charles smiled at the gentle touch.  
"Where is your wheelchair?"

Charles closed his eyes, asking Raven to bring the chair to their tent. When she sent back a confirmation, he smiled.  
"Raven is going to bring it."

Erik nodded, standing up and offering Charles his hand. Charles took it, amused by how his husband was always so careful. The two of them made their way from the tent, and Charles smiled to see that Raven was already there.

He settled down in the chair, wheeling himself forwards. Raven leaned forwards to embrace him, and Charles returned the hug with a fond smile.   
"Thank you."

"Any time." Raven nodded, and Charles looked up at her fondly.

"Do you think Erzengel or Hank would feel like coming to the feast tonight?"

"I'll talk to them. Perhaps we can get them to come... Psylocke will... Is Psylocke going to come back?" Raven asked, and Charles could hear the concern behind her thoughts, the worries that she would have to try and look after Erzengel for the rest of his life and keep lying to him to keep him safe.

Erik nodded.  
"She's going to come back. Kurt did a good job protecting her." 

Raven smiled fondly.  
"Thank you."

"It's alright," Erik smiled. Charles saw the kindness in the smile, the care that Erik showed to every one of their people.

"Did he tell you?" Raven asked, and Charles shot her a glare.

"He did, and I have plans in place. Thank you for looking after him - for looking after all of them. Your contribution will be recognised. Those who fought Westchester will be honoured, just as those who fought En Sabah Nur will be." 

Charles smiled faintly at that, touched by Erik's understanding. It would have been easy to dismiss what had happened in Westchester - it was certainly what Kurt Marko would have done. To see manipulation and poison as underhanded and weak in a way that swords and blood were not.

Erik reached out and squeezed his hand, leading him forth, setting up what was necessary. Several of the fields had been damaged when Westchester attacked. But there was enough. Soon, the preparations for the feast were underway with those that had remained. 

It was then that Blink split the air before them in two, and through marched the warriors, led by the four generals. Erik walked forwards to embrace them, leaning his forehead against Azazel's for a moment before Azazel vanished in a puff of smoke. Angel raced forwards to embrace Storm, the two of them kissing passionately. 

Erik smiled, returning to Charles's side. Charles could see new faces among the assembled warriors, seeing children and a few youths that had joined along with a handful of En Sabah Nur's troops. Charles smiled, and nodded, sending forth a mental welcome to each of them. 

Some looked uncertain. They hadn't suffered as cruel a tearing from En Sabah Nur's power as Erzengel had, the boy suffering both from the harshness of the action and the fact that he had been one favoured above all. Even so, the loss of the control they had known was leaving them with gaps and injuries, and Charles knew he and Emma would be spending the next few days attempting to heal those wounds. It would be worth it, to enable these people to start a new life, to have a new understanding of who they were. 

He and Erik welcomed their warriors home, and all the while Charles could feel something twisting within Erik's thoughts, beyond the fear and pain of what had happened. A plan he was trying to hide. Despite his desire to understand, Charles didn't push further, simply waited.

Once the group had dispersed to prepare for the feast, Erik turned to him. He looked into his eyes.  
"Charles, I need you to trust me for a little while."

"I've trusted you for more than a little while," Charles reminded, and Erik's lips curved slightly in a shy smile, before he cleared his throat and began to speak.  
"I need to do something, but I can only do it if you stay away. Because it won't... you're a telepath. It isn't that I don't trust you. But this has to be done freely, do you understand me?"

Charles shook his head, looking up at him.  
"I don't ... I don't understand. But I do trust you. If you tell me that you need this time, I can give you that."

"Thank you," Erik said softly, reaching out and embracing Charles for a moment, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I'll explain everything, in a little while. Just a moment longer?"

Charles could feel now, the things that Erik wasn't saying. Whatever he was planning, it involved Jasmine. He could feel that with certainty, even if he wasn't saying what was happening. But the truth was, he was willing to trust Erik.  
"Will you be able to put the final touches on the feast?" Erik asked, and Charles nodded, leaning up for a kiss.

Erik smiled, and then walked away, heading to Emma. The two of them talked, and a few mutant teenagers stepped forwards, approaching nervously, all of them holding hands. There was a youth with blue skin that seemed to spark across him, energy flickering. Two teenage girls, one with red hair, and one with silver, were holding onto his hands, and a young man with golden skin and another with black hair walked forwards. They all bowed, formally.

Even at this distance, Charles could feel the fear that was flickering between them. He could feel the pain there. They were terrified, and it made him wheel away a little, reaching for Emma's mind.  
 _Are they alright?_

 _A little afraid. But they are talking, just... this has to be their decision. They've lost the chance to choose too many times before._ With that, she closed the mental link. It would have been easy for Charles to force it open, but he was determined to respect their wishes. He tried to organise the feast, thanking those who were doing the work, and introducing himself to the new children. He smiled to see Logan carving up the meat with his claws. Rogue was a short distance away, deep in discussion with a newcomer who was leaning on a staff, and grinned to see Charles.

Charles smiled at them, relieved to see Rogue looking happy. She was wearing her bracelet, and he was glad for that, knew the freedom it offered her. As she reached out and brushed her hand against her new friend's arm, he realised it might come in very useful indeed.

He saw that Kurt was talking to Peter, gesticulating wildly with his tail as Peter laughed, and he felt so proud of the boy. Erik had said Kurt had protected Psylocke. He'd have to thank him for that - but not right now. Right now, Kurt had other things on his mind.

 _Charles?_ Erik's thoughts pierced through his mind. _Can you come over here, please._

Charles wheeled towards the group, Emma watching from nearby as Erik stood with the five of them. They looked down, uncertain and afraid, and Charles could hear scraps of thoughts projected through fear.

_If we fail ... don't want to hurt... not again... want to help... a child... not him..._

He cleared his throat, and smiled.  
"Erik, could you tell me what's going on?"

"These are Fabio, Eva, Kevin, Hope and Joshua. I... I think there's a chance they might be able to save Jasmine."

Charles stared in shock, shaking his head. "That's not possible."

Erik smiled nervously.   
"Do you want us to try? They've said they're willing to, if they won't be in trouble-"

"They can try," Charles agreed, thinking of the girl who had never had a real chance at life. If he could offer her that, he had to do what he could for her. "You... you mean-"

"I will explain." Emma stepped forwards, and even if she didn't say it out loud, Charles understood she was sharing this because it was too painful for the rest to voice. "The old king once had them produce a living, breathing, copy of himself. It took several attempts, and nearly killed them in the process, but in the end they had created the duplicate he wished for. Not... it was mindless. But he saw it was possible, and then turned it to dust. The plan was for my mind to hold a copy of his own, so that were an… accident to befall him, he would rise again."

"And did you?"

"Never, but he believed I would. And I believe it would work. If there is any of her left on that blanket, some hair or a fingernail, even her blood," _And if you still hold her mind_ "there is a chance she will live."

They all looked at him. Charles's heart hammered in his chest, but he nodded.  
"We have to try."

Erik smiled at him, and there was a fondness in his eyes that Charles didn't think he'd ever tire of seeing. The idea that he could make Erik know peace - real peace, not the sham of it that En Sabah Nur had inflicted - was a powerful thought.   
"First we should eat, and they need a night to rest and build their strength. They've all... some were with my warriors, and the other two were Westchester's prisoners. Either way, if they want to do this correctly -"

"No, they should rest." Charles nodded, offering his hand. Four of the youths stepped forwards to shake his hand, the fifth remaining apart but looking at them sincerely. 

"May we see her?" One of them asked, and Charles nodded, projecting the image of Jasmine as she saw herself, her youth and joy and liveliness. Each of them concentrated on that image. Charles addressed them. "I appreciate you being willing to try. She is... an innocent. She did not deserve what happened to her. But I understand... No one will be forced to do anything."

"We want to," the red haired girl spoke for all of them. "She's a child, she deserves to know peace."

"Erik gave us that," the golden skinned boy added.

"We want to give it to someone else." The other girl smiled, and then the five of them walked away, Emma following in their wake as a protective shadow. Erik watched them go, and moved to rest his hand on Charles's shoulder.

"It might not work."

"It might." Charles shrugged, trying not to show the hope he had pinned on this. It wouldn't be fair to put that pressure on them. They deserved to be free of that guilt, that pressure, that fear. "If it does - she's a telepath who has... she was strong enough to fool me, and to be used as a weapon. I want to help her, but--"

"She can be our daughter," Erik interrupted with a knowing look. "You care about her a lot, don't you?"

"So much," Charles conceded. "I just want her to be happy, to know peace. She was willing to sacrifice herself for us. She deserves joy."

"And she will have it." Erik leaned down, and looked Charles in the eye. "She might not come back. But if she does, she will be loved. If we can save her or not, her suffering is over now."

Charles leaned into him, pushing back tears.  
"The feast?"

"The feast," Erik agreed.

The meal that night was hard. They were counting their losses, and their injuries, even as some of their number experimented with the new strengths that they had been gifted. Charles couldn't help picturing Jasmine playing with the other children her age, demonstrating her powers, unafraid.

Erik leaned in for a kiss, pulling away at a loud crack that indicated that Azazel and Janos had finally seen it fit to join the rest of them for the feast. There was laughter at that, which Azazel took with good humor, leaning in to kiss Janos's hair. Charles tried not to let the pain within him hurt. He ate, and let Erik talk, agreeing and sharing his own thanks to those that had helped him. He stumbled through signing thanks to Janos, making the other man beam in delight.

He saw that Erzengel was there, sandwiched between Hank and Psylocke, his head bowed as he picked at his food. The boy's presence at all was a huge step forwards, and Erik grinned, mentally caressing Charles.  
 _He's doing well._

 _He is,_ Charles agreed, seeing the youths they had spoken to before sat together, whispering and giggling among themselves. He could feel their relief at being reunited, and a certainty from them - he didn't want to pry too deeply, but he could tell they wanted to do this. That was a relief. 

Erik's hand squeezed his beneath the table.  
"I might not sleep well tonight."

"That's okay," Charles smiled. "I'll be there to hold you." He could tell the fear in Erik's eyes, the concern that he might have a nightmare, that he might appear vulnerable or helpless. Charles sent back a simple message. _You are strong._

_Not strong enough to fight En Sabah Nur._

_Strong enough. You killed him. You've killed so many monsters._ Charles looked into his eyes. "I know it wasn't easy, but you did it." _No one could have resisted that telepath's full attention. And you came back._

"Always." Erik's hand squeezed his once more, and they spent the rest of the feast together, before returning to their tent, playing a game of chess together that neither of them could focus on, before curling up in bed. Charles's mind was humming with possibility, while Erik's was dark with fear.

Neither of them were surprised to find their sleep that night was paved with terrors. In their tangled minds the old king shared wine with Marko, and En Sabah Nur turned Charles's family from him like puppets. They woke more than once, even though Charles did what he could to smooth over the worst of the terrors. Their sleep wasn't peaceful, but they rested.

Dawn broke, and Charles pulled himself from Erik's dreams, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Charles?" Erik mumbled, one hand skimming up Charles's side. "What's wrong?"

"They're outside our tent," Charles murmured, sitting up and glancing at Jasmine's blanket. "I can feel that they're ready."

"Are you ready?"

"As ready as I will ever be." Charles thought for a moment. "Which I suppose isn't as ready as I'd like. But I have to try." He dressed, and settled into his chair, picking up the blanket. "Are you coming?"

"I think it's better I don't." Erik hesitated. "I can't be there as their king. I know you are... but you're Jasmine's father. That matters now."

Knowing this would change everything, Charles turned, wheeling out to face them.  
"Where shall we-"

"Not far." The red haired girl spoke, turning and leading the way to a small clearing that was within the main camp. "You can watch, but... we'd rather this wasn't known."

Charles nodded, and she took the blanket from him, as one of the men stepped forwards with a small white dress.  
"For Jasmine," he murmured, stepping back to the rest. He closed his eyes, and a golden sphere emerged from him. The blue skinned boy stepped forwards, and took the blanket, wrapping it around the egg. When he pulled it from the blanket, the surface looked more translucent, with something swirling within.

Charles could feel their concentration even as he tried not to invade their thoughts, all five of them focused on this small sphere that could give him a daughter. The golden skinned man took the egg, and passed it to the silver haired girl. Things changed, the strands in the egg coalescing, and then growing larger, the egg expanding. She placed it on the floor as it grew larger, until contained within it was the body of the little girl. Her hair grew to the length it had been in his image.

Then the five together held hands, and the redheaded girl concentrated, sheer power flowing between them.

She stepped back, and the egg cracked, and confused mismatched eyes blinked up.

"She knows nothing," the redhead explained. "Give her her soul."

Charles stepped forwards with shaking legs, making his way to her, sliding the dress over her fragile form, and then bringing his head to hers, pushing through all the memories he had seen in that brief moment their minds had merged, separating them, and giving her herself.

He pulled back, looking at her, afraid.

"Hello Charles?" she asked, blinking. "Where are we?"

"Home. Somewhere you can be safe." He promised, and she blinked.

"I'm sorry, I... my name's Jason, I'm Stryker's-"

"Do you want to be?" Charles interrupted her. "You can use whatever name you want here. You don’t have to be his, after how he hurt you. I will keep you safe."

"Can I be Jasmine?" she whispered.

"You always have been." Charles promised, opening his arms to her, embracing her tightly. He could feel her shivers, and a brief skim of her mind revealed she knew how she had died. But she was safe now. He pressed his face into her hair, and turned to the other mutants.  
"Thank you."

They bowed stiffly, and turned and walked away, leaving Charles to return to his chair, his daughter curled up in his lap. She clung to him, trembling, fragile and afraid, and Charles ached for all she had suffered. She would not suffer again.

The sun continued to rise, and the camp came to life, and Charles held Jasmine close.  
 _Erik, come and meet our little girl?_


	16. Father

Erik paced in the tent he shared with Charles, wishing that there was something he could do to help. He could tell how much this fragile life meant to his husband, and knew that if the young mutants could save her, it would change everything for him. He was ready for that, at least as much as he could be. He could withstand anything if it would bring Charles joy, and only a fool would have been able to ignore how much this child meant to Charles.

He could feel Charles’s wedding ring, and the bracelet he wore, and all of the metal in the camp, the nails holding up the cabins, the jewellery and the metal threads and the weaponry, all of it singing louder to him and shining brighter than it ever had before. Because of what had happened to him - because of what had been done to him, under En Sabah Nur’s hand, the way he had strengthened and grown. The power coursed through him, stronger than he had ever felt it, the earth beneath his feet calling for him.

He remembered what had happened within the monument. Those memories remained, and he couldn’t decide yet if that was a comfort or a cruelty, to recall every breath there, to know how mindless he had been. He had not been a warrior under En Sabah Nur’s touch, but instead he had been a weapon, a tool, nothing more than an object.

He thought of his people. Those who had gone to war, and those who had accompanied them home. Mutants with powers beyond all reckoning, and yet traumatised for so long without their own thoughts, acting only as a conduit for their lord's wishes. His blood ran cold. He would have to ask his telepaths to do what they could to help them, to guide them back from their nightmares.

Images from his dreams and his past flashed behind his eyes, and he concentrated on keeping his thoughts in his native tongue, in shielding Charles from his pain - not just because of his fear, but because Charles would need to concentrate. He couldn't let his old nightmares stop Charles from this.

He looked at the vambraces around his arms, feeling the metal in them twisting with his anxiety and hope. He picked up a blade, floating it through the air and settling it at his hip so that he wasn’t defenceless, and tried to reassure himself. He'd got home, and Charles had found him. Even through the times he lost himself, he had to believe some part of him had held onto Charles. That was how Charles had been able to bring him back, how Charles would always bring him back. 

He knew there would be many sleepless nights to come, times when his terror overwhelmed him, when he remembered the past and what it was to be helpless. But he had to be strong.

He could feel so much metal now. He was sure he could find almost anyone in the camp, with the tiny fragments of jewellery they carried on them. It was as though his power before had been a whisper. He shuddered, picturing what could have happened if such ability had befallen him in his youth, before he had learned to control his own destiny.

Those thoughts lingered as he heard Charles calling out into his mind, his husband's voice soft, reverent, chasing away nightmares of the past and bringing new hope.  
 _Erik, come and meet our little girl?_

Erik felt himself smile. Fatherhood was not something he had pictured for himself, knowing that he was inclined towards men and in a position that made a relationship untenable.   
_With joy._ He strode from the tent, able to feel where Charles was waiting. 

Charles was seated in his chair, the little girl curled up against his chest, shivering a little in the morning air. Without hesitation, Erik removed his cloak, placing it around her shoulders, and stroking his fingers through her hair.

She tensed, looking up at him angrily, and then as he blinked he found the space in front of him appeared empty. Charles and her had both disappeared from his sight. He could feel them, the metal of Charles's wheelchair and the constant familiarity of his ring. But the two of them were invisible.

"Charles?" Erik asked. _Why are you invisible?_

 _I don't know. I think it's Jasmine._ Charles cleared his throat, and spoke softly. "Jasmine, why are we hiding?"

"I don't want him to hurt you again. All the soldiers were laughing about...about how he hurt you and I don't-" There was the sound of a little girl crying in the empty space in front of him, and Erik longed to reach out and soothe them, but he knew he had to wait for as long as it took. He breathed slowly, hoping that it would be alright, that Charles would be able to fix this.

He heard his husband murmuring softly, and while he couldn't see Charles's hand he could feel his wedding ring caressing the girl's back, rubbing away the tension as she cried.

"You were so nice to me," Jasmine whispered. "You didn't yell and you... you said it would be okay and I don't want him to hurt you, I won't let him hurt you! I won't! I won't..." Her words were interrupted by another sob, and then Charles made more shushing noises. Erik felt rather silly, standing in front of the two of them while they were hidden from his sight, but he couldn't force them back into being seen. Instead, he crouched down so that he would be at Charles's height, trying to smile and to look kind.

"I don't want to hurt either of you," he promised. "You are the most important things in my life. I just want to keep you safe."

There was a pause, and silence, and then Charles's voice, as sure as anything.  
"He will protect us. He hasn't hurt me. I wouldn't lie to you, I promise you, Jasmine. He's a good man. The best... the best man. All the time I was there, I wanted to come home, to him, to where I belonged. Remember, I told you here was somewhere that all mutants could be safe? That's because of Erik. He's made it safe for us."

Erik held his breath, and Charles flickered back into vision, the little girl curled up against his chest. She was shivering a little, her eyes wide with fear. Erik let her look at him, staying crouched down, trying to look as non-threatening as was possible for him. 

After almost a minute of silent staring, she nodded, and Erik felt relief flood him.

 _She's just scared, I'm sorry._ Charles murmured in his mind, and Erik shook his head, trying to reassure Charles he had no reason to apologise. What mattered was that he was safe. Erik tried to smile. 

"It's good to meet you, Jasmine. You helped Charles?"

She nodded, her small curls bouncing at the movement of her head, and Erik felt a heavy warmth settle in his chest.

"Thank you."

"You're a mutant too?" 

He nodded, showing her the patterns on his vambraces, then pulling some metal from the blade at his waist, floating it around in small spheres before merging them.  
"Can I make you a bracelet?" he asked her, and she giggled and nodded, closing her eyes and screwing her face up in concentration, a small blue butterfly floating through the air to land on her arm. She held it up.

"Can it have a butterfly?" she asked before dropping the illusion.

"It can," Erik agreed, shaping the knife into a butterfly bracelet for her, holding it out. She reached out, placing it on her wrist, and looking up at him.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"If you hurt Charles I'm going to hide us so well you won't ever find us," she told him, and he could see she was shivering with fear, but knew she meant it.

"I understand," Erik nodded. "Now, do you want to come and see your new home?"

"I can really stay?" Jasmine looked up at Charles, as though waiting to find out this had all been some cruel game or trick.

"You can stay." Charles confirmed, leaning to press a kiss to her hair, before he began to wheel them back to the camp.

"I...I don't understand," Jasmine whispered. "You... I died..." Her voice sounded so broken at that. Charles tried to explain to her in words she could understand, to tell her what had happened. 

Erik walked with them through the camp. He could see the newcomers here, faces he didn't recognise, or half-recalled from Trask's kingdom. Their people had grown, but with Charles at his side he felt like he would be able to face it.

"Charles?" Erik asked quietly. "Do you think that you could take Jasmine to meet some of the others?" _I need to check on my generals, and then we should talk with them. We're stronger now, and we need to let others know._

 _I already have a message planned._ Charles reassured him, the words a comfort and a certainty that Erik found he trusted totally. He was uncomfortable at the thought of mindreaders after what had occurred with En Sabah Nur, but that uncertainty didn't spread to Charles. He sent Charles a wave of affection, which made the other man laugh as he moved away. Erik watched him go.

 _You're both sickening,_ Emma informed him coldly, as she strode towards him. _It's awful, and that girl is bound to make you worse._

 _Thank you, Emma._ Erik nodded a greeting to her. "How are the newest arrivals?"

"Mostly shaken. I've spent a while working with the ones who seemed to be most at risk of further weakness... they're struggling, some of them were under his control for years. But there's enough left to pull them out. Hank wanted me to let you know Erzengel seems a lot happier now that he's back here."

Erik looked at her.  
"And you?"

"I'm fine sugar, you know that. I'm always fine." She tossed her head, her blond hair shining in the morning light. "Are you honestly happy to share Charles with a foundling?"

"I'm happy if he is." Erik answered, aware that the words were cliched, but the cliche didn't make the words any less true on his tongue. Anyway, the little girl had helped Charles get home. The least he could do was show her kindness in return. "And the generals?"

"Azazel is mysteriously absent, and will probably return soon if he's able to persuade Janos that there is more to life than..." Her voice trailed off in disgust, and she shook her head. "Well, he seems uninjured and back to full health, if his... vigorous enthusiasm is anything to go by. At least Janos appears happy. Logan has been spending hours checking on all the children that were kidnapped by Westchester, and Angel and Storm have been almost as intolerable as Azazel and Janos."

"I'll need to meet with you this afternoon. We need to make sure everyone understands that they are no longer a threat to us, and that anyone who tries to cause us harm will suffer far more in return."

Emma nodded, and stepped forwards, placing her hand on his arm. "I forbid you from ever scaring me like that again, do you hear me?"

"Loud and clear." Erik confirmed, nodding.

"Thank you," she turned and walked away, pausing to look over her shoulder. "You should work out where Jasmine will be sleeping."

Erik frowned, sending that question to Charles.

 _I thought she could have my old cabin?_ Charles suggested, and Erik could see the wisdom of that - it would be comfortable for her, without being too close to their own space. It would be easy to monitor. 

_You won't have it for yourself?_ Erik asked, and was answered by amusement from Charles.

_My home is with you, Erik, in our tent and our bed. I think I can spare a space I no longer have any need for._

Erik smiled to himself as he went to check on the rest of his people, confident in the knowledge that Charles had no intention to leave. That was good, because he had no intention to leave Charles either. 

The time until lunch passed quickly, as he checked on those who En Sabah Nur had enhanced, and spoke to his warriors, all the time feeling Charles's presence in his mind, neither of them wanting to break the connection. He headed to lunch to find Charles already waiting at a table, Jasmine beside him, and an empty chair on Charles's other side.

Erik moved to sit in his seat, glancing across at Jasmine, who was wearing a colourful dress that he suspected had once been one of Charles's tunics.  
"Hello you two," he greeted them fondly.

"Hello," Charles smiled, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "Are your generals alright?"

"As well as could be expected," Erik conceded. "They're home, and that's good for them."

"For all of us." Charles agreed, helping Jasmine to cut up her food. He spoke in Erik's mind. _I think we should meet with the generals and prepare a message. Let the world know that Genosha defends what is ours._

_I never took you for a warmonger, Charles._

_Not a warmonger. But if someone seeks to bring the fight to us, they shall be sent away so shattered that they know this is not a mistake to make once more._ Charles's foot bumped his under the table, and Erik smiled fondly.

"I missed you," he breathed. "How... what was it like?"

"Westchester was much the same as before. My stepbrother continued to be a fool and my stepfather easily led. I hated them. I really did." Charles's voice shook slightly. "And they're gone now, and part of me... Part of me is so glad... but I ..." Charles continued telepathically, for Jasmine's sake. _I killed them in cold blood, Erik. I... I poisoned them._

 _You didn't have much choice, did you?_ Erik twisted to look into Charles's eyes, taking his hands and rubbing his thumbs across the back of them gently. _With them cutting you off from your powers, you still kept our people safe. I would have been... unable to do what you had done. And as for the idea of certain kinds of murder being dishonourable... Emma and I killed the old king while he slept. And neither of us have felt one ounce of regret ever since, other than for the fact we did not slaughter him sooner._ Erik smiled fondly. He adored Charles, but it startled him that Charles would cling to ideas of fairness when their opponents were clearly not using those same rules.

His words seemed to settle Charles, and the rest of the meal passed calmly. They finished eating, and Charles called over Kitty and Jean to meet Jasmine. Kitty demonstrated her powers, and the three little girls rushed away to play. Charles watched them go, his eyes shining with fondness, before he focused.  
"Where should we meet?"

"Our tent?" Erik said carefully. "There'll be space and we won't be overheard."

Charles nodded, letting Erik use his power to move his chair so that they could hold hands until they reached the tent.  
"Shall I call your generals?" Charles asked, his expression serious. Erik nodded, and Charles closed his eyes, calling the four of them to the tent.

Azazel appeared first, in a burst of red smoke, and embraced Erik tightly. Erik returned the embrace.

"You're looking well," Erik acknowledged.

"My husband's safety is a relief. His company is good for me and his smile heals my heart," Azazel laughed, as Emma walked in and rolled her eyes, pointedly swapping to diamond form. Storm and Logan walked in together, smirking at some private joke.

Erik stood before them, and gestured for them to make themselves comfortable.  
"We need to be ready to face any threat. We have seen now, how vulnerable we can be. But we have gained in strength. I want a clear message sent out that we are powerful, that any nation who would harm what is ours will face retribution."

"What happened to Westchester?" Emma asked Charles. "I hear you killed their king?"

"I have arranged for a suitable replacement." Charles said softly. "A man I trust to serve the interests of all those in the kingdom, human and mutant both. They will at least be willing to ensure safe passage to those in need." 

Charles cleared his throat, looking up at Erik and nodding.  
"I think we need it known that we will offer sanctuary to any mutant who comes asking for it."

Erik nodded.   
"We are strong. Despite the harms that En Sabah Nur forced upon us, we have grown in strength. Our warriors are unstoppable, as anyone who challenges us shall learn at their cost." Erik reached out, resting his hand against Charles's. "We have the capacity to fight."

"We should send out messages, making it clear, letting our offer of sanctuary be known." Charles said, glancing at the generals. "We can make this somewhere safe for those the world would throw away."

Erik could see the determination in the face of his warriors, and he felt it echoed within himself. "Charles and I will draft the messages. Then with the approval of all of you, we shall send it far and wide, and let the nations know we will defend what is ours."

Azazel nodded, and Logan slowly inclined his head. More enthusiastically, Storm beamed, lightning crackling in the air around her. Even Emma's lips twitched a little in a smile. The generals departed, and Erik curled up beside Charles, discussing the message that they would send out, until it was time for dinner.

Erik was glad to see that Erzengel had come to dinner, although he still appeared a little confused about where he was and what was going on. He was maintaining a tight grip on Hank's sleeve, looking around with wide eyes. Erik nodded his thanks to Hank, before going to sit with Charles, Rogue and her new friend, whose name was Remy. 

Her hand kept brushing against Remy's, and Erik tried to sympathise with her, to see how much her bracelet meant to her. She didn't feel cut off from her powers. It was hard, but he tried to sympathise. 

It was a relief when little Jasmine rushed over, eager to tell him and Charles all about the adventures she had had, the games she had been playing. He listened, trying to ignore the way the skin at the back of his neck was crawling with discomfort. Eventually the meal was over, and the two of them put Jasmine safely in her cabin.

Charles embraced her tightly. "We'll see you in the morning. If you need anything, call out."

She nodded, tapping her head, and then looked at Erik.  
"Take care of him?"

"I will," Erik promised her, humming a tune he half remembered his mother singing to him. Jasmine smiled, settling down on her bed and allowing herself to fall asleep. Charles watched her for a moment before he moved away, and Erik followed.

"You're scared of her?" Charles asked once they were in privacy, as he lit a candle and Charles climbed into their bed. 

"A little," Erik admitted, climbing in beside him. "She's a powerful telepath, and after what happened... I don't want anyone in my mind."

A hurt look passed Charles's face, and Erik flinched, leaning in to kiss him softly. "Not you. Never you, I want you there, you make things... you make things better, Charles. I'm not afraid with you."

Charles looked up at him and smiled.  
"I'm not afraid with you, either." 

Erik felt the warmth of Charles's mind embracing him, and it was so different from what had happened in Trask's lands. He knew nightmares would be coming. After everything, he was too shaken for them to stay away. But he would be facing them with Charles at his side, and that meant something to him.

He pressed a kiss to Charles's lips, gazing down at him, watching the candlelight flickering across Charles's skin, and knew he did not need to be afraid again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go. Thank you to everyone who has supported me in this fic, especially Lavenderlotion, insertsthmeaningful, Lynds, Lourdesdeath, Homosociality, IreneADonovan, ABFeta, GenuineSnoof, Shadowhaloedangel and Triffidsandcuckoos.  
> We live in tough and frightening times. I wish you all hope.


	17. Homecoming

"I was never afraid of you, Erik. Even when you thought I should have been, even when you were afraid of yourself - I never feared you." Charles leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to Erik's cheek. "I could see you were a good man, for all that you denied it."

"I... did not think myself a good man," Erik answered, his forehead resting against Charles's own, strong hands brushing down Charles's sides. "I thought myself a weapon who had risen beyond my station."

"Then I married a fool," Charles laughed, leaning up to deepen the kiss, his arms around Erik's shoulders. _A very handsome fool. A kind fool. A fool that is an absolute delight to bed, and who fits perfectly beside me in the sheets and on the throne, a fool that I would live my entire life trying to please, but a fool none the less._

Erik rolled his eyes, sending back a wave of annoyance. The fondness he was feeling shone through, and Charles felt it warming him. Charles lay back on the bed, reaching to untie his own belt, as Erik straddled his hips and gazed down at him.

"You know I will not argue with the fact I am a fool."

"Perhaps. Yet you are my fool," Charles managed to pull his tunic over his head, unashamed of his pale skin and his scars, knowing Erik bore scars of his own. Erik leaned down, talented fingers and mouth tracing old lines.

"Not all of us can be born with your wisdom," Erik answered, discarding his own tunic. "And yet I serve you well enough."

"Passably," Charles agreed, pulling him closer for a kiss. "You are my king, my love, my fool. And I am a fool for you... you know, there were times in the Marko's Court where I could scarce bite back the things you would have me say. To tell them how little they should understand of love, of devotion, of duty. They thought of nothing but themselves, and in doing so they knew nothing of life." Charles's hands ran down Erik's spine, feeling the strength of the muscle there, the raw power that was within his lover's body.

"I have corrupted you," Erik teased, a fond smile on his lips. "My dear king, I am sure you were demure before I took you here."

Charles laughed, pressing kisses to Erik's chest, fumbling with the laces of his trousers.   
"Indeed. Knowing nothing of the world. You know, I told my stepbrother you had had me repeatedly. You wouldn't wish to make a liar out of me would you?"

"Never." Erik promised, his mouth kissing at Charles's throat as he finished undressing him, using metal to guide Charles's trousers down his slender legs, and brushing kisses against them. Charles squirmed a little, some of the touches of Erik's lips falling on patches where the sensation was deadened. 

Erik raised a hand, summoning over a jar of oil, and Charles spread his legs, sending Erik the sense of his desire. Erik rolled his eyes but complied, slicking his fingers before the first one worked its way into the eager heat of his husband. He leaned down, kissing him possessively, sending messages through their link as he carefully worked Charles open.  
 _Mine. Love you. So glad to have you. Yours. Always._

Charles couldn't help smiling to himself as he sent back his own words of love, gasping and squirming as Erik's careful fingers continued their work. He arched his back, moaning louder, encouraging Erik on, until Erik judged him ready and moved to push inside him.

Charles moaned out as Erik slid home, his hands gripping onto the other man, panting as Erik began to rock his hips, kissing him deeply, careful fingers tracing up his sides. Charles pulled him closer, letting their emotions entwine as their bodies moved together. 

Erik moaned, one oil-slicked hand slipped between them to stroke Charles's hardened flesh, gripping him firmly and stroking him in time with his thrusts. Charles closed his eyes, allowing their pleasure to flood through him, until he came with a cry. Erik stilled inside his body, until Charles nodded, and he thrust a few more times, chasing his own release. Charles felt Erik filling him, and looked up, gazing at his king's kind eyes and sweat-dampened hair.

"You are a marvellous man, my love," Charles told him. "I am truly honoured to be here beside you."

Erik leaned in, pressing a kiss to Charles's forehead, before pulling out with a groan, raising his hand and pulling a gold-embroidered cloth to them. He wiped them clean and dropped it to the floor, his arms wrapping around Charles and pulling him close.  
"I am the one that is honoured, Charles. I get to wake each day with you beside me."

Charles shook his head fondly, yawning and nuzzling closer, arranging Erik's arms around him to hold him close.   
"And I wake with you. But for now, I must sleep, because you tire me."

Erik's arms tightened their grip a little, and he pressed a kiss to the back of Charles's neck. "Sweet dreams."

Charles smiled, and allowed their minds to tangle together. He knew that both of them had more nightmares than they deserved waiting for them. But at least they could face it side by side. 

He could hear echoing footsteps, and his hands tightened on Erik's own.   
_You don't need to fear. I will not leave you._

***

Charles woke as Erik carefully extracted himself from his embrace and the sun rose the next morning. Erik looked exhausted, and he was sure that he looked the same. There were too many shadows of dead men that haunted their nightmares for their dreams to be peaceful. But they saw each other through the night.

Erik looked at him and shook his head.  
"I did not mean to wake you. Emma said that Jasmine had woken up and was playing with the other little girls, and I... I wished to check on her."

Charles moved to sitting up, and nodded, going to pull on clean clothing before he lowered himself into his chair, moving with Erik out of their tent. 

Emma strode over.  
"Have you drafted the message?"

"Near enough. Give us until after breakfast," Charles replied, and Emma snorted and turned away. Charles watched her leave, before spotting Jasmine, running around with a few of the other little girls. She looked happy, and his heart soared to see it, to know that the frightened child she had once been had put all of that pain aside, at least for a little while. He did not believe her fears were over, but for now at least she could put them to the back of her mind, and play.

Erik watched her, and then walked back to their tent, returning with some parchment and a stylus. He headed to a nearby tree, letting Charles arrange himself in its shade, and then standing beside him.

Together, they worked out what they would send out to the world, to let them know that Genosha did not fear those who would see it destroyed. The generals approached just before breakfast, and Charles turned to Emma, offering her the final draft.

' _To all those who threaten Genosha, know that we stand prepared to fight for our people. To all who think they can mistreat our kind, know that we stand ready to defend them. Our kind will be welcomed here, and those who wish us harm shall pay dearly. We are ready to destroy any who wish us harm. We are ready to conquer, should any think that they can conquer us. We shall win, for Genosha._ '

Emma read over the note, and nodded.  
"I shall ensure that it is distributed."

"Thank you." Charles turned to Storm. "How are our newest arrivals settling in?"

"Well enough. They are... nervous, but ... there is a degree of hope in them. At least in some. I believe... it will spread."

"Thank you." Charles smiled at her. _Emma, you said their minds are-_

_I believe we can work together to help them._

_Then we shall do that today, to unlock what we can._ Charles agreed, interrupted from his planning as Jasmine walked over. There was a circlet of daisies on her head, and she spun around in front of him.  
"Charles! Look what Kitty made me!"

"That looks beautiful," Charles promised her. "You look beautiful, sweetheart."

Jasmine giggled, climbing onto his lap to embrace him, and he held her tightly for a moment. His heart felt full of love for his child, his husband, and his country.

"I need to help some people who are sick today, okay? But I'll make sure that there are people to look after you, and I promise I'll be with you at dinner."

"Thank you," she paused, then looked up at Erik. "Will you sing me a song again?"

Erik smiled at her and nodded.  
"I can sing you a song again later." 

Beaming, she skipped away, and Logan chuckled.  
"Never had you for the fatherly type."

"Charles brings out the best in me." Erik answered, resting a hand on Charles's shoulder. Charles leaned into the touch.

_It's mutual._

"You are both as bad as each other," Emma said disapprovingly. "I hope you realise that."

"We do." Charles and Erik spoke in unison, before laughter spread between them. Emma looked from one to the other, and groaned to herself, but Charles could tell she was amused.

Charles reached for Erik's hand, guiding him to the dining table, and sitting beside him as they ate breakfast. Erik's hand tangled with his, squeezing softly, as they gazed out at their people. Different languages echoed around the clearing, as the mutants laughed and ate together, thriving. Charles turned to Erik, leaning up to kiss him softly on the cheek. 

They had work ahead of them, to rebuild what had been damaged. But they would work together, and leave behind a land stronger than it had been before.

In his home, with his people, and with his husband at his side, Charles smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, and helped. While I might write short ficlets in this verse, this ends the story I wished to tell. I hope you have enjoyed it.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [very bad dreams (are very not nice)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24841690) by [lavenderlotion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion)




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